Revelations
by Eschatona
Summary: When Mori told him his mission was to assassinate a Sorcerer Dazai had thought the man was joking. Oh, if only he knew. - In which Chuuya is a Sorcerer and Dazai's assassination attempt goes horribly, horribly wrong. Chuuya declares that Dazai will just have to live with him for the for.. Strategic reasons. Definitely not because Chuuya's lonely and wants company. Definitely not
1. 1: A Sorcerer's House

One: A Sorcerer's House

* * *

I almost named this fic Abrakadabra but I wanted people to actually take it seriously so here we are with "revelations"

The following is a list of content warnings for the story as a whole. If you don't have any triggers I recommend skipping it, because it could be considered spoilers.

I'll also be putting separate warnings for chapter content at the start of specifically triggering chapters.

If you do read this list but think this is a story you can comfortably read, I'd say you can 100% still enjoy the story and narrative while knowing the contents of this list:

Warnings: non consensual experimentation/body modification in form of a vivid flashback, aftermath of a nightmare reliving the rape of a minor (so the act doesn't get described at all), brief discussion of suicidal ideation, Chuuya is generally very nice to dazai but he does technically imprison him within his own home, so there's that

* * *

Dazai was humming to himself, regardless of how the cheerful little tune did very little to brighten his oppressive surroundings. Since he'd first set foot in the forest it had felt overall quite unpleasant, as though everything down to the very air was trying to drive him away. As expected he was surrounded by trees, but they were twisted and gnarled almost to the point of a grotesque distortion, towering over him in a way Dazai found just a little threatening.

So Dazai hummed his silly tune and tried to convince himself that the aura of the forest was all in his head. He ignored how his skin felt unusually scratchy beneath the soft cotton bandages wrapped around his upper chest and arms. He ignored how often he'd tripped over massive knots of roots that had seemed to appear out of nowhere. He'd stumbled over them more times than he cared to admit while making his way here. He was sure they weren't really appearing out of nowhere, it was just because of how _dark_ it was in the forest.

Too dark, for the time of day. He ignored that as well.

Dazai drew his coat just a little tighter around himself as a breeze just a little too cold for May blew through him, mentally reviewing the information he knew so far. It felt like the forest itself didn't want him here. If Dazai were to believe what Mori had told him this morning, that notion was true. Apparently -and Dazai was still highly doubtful- a Sorcerer lived in this forest and the repellant atmosphere was supposed to stop people happening across his home.

Coming to a halt Dazai sighed to himself, staring around at the endless trees. The cold wind blew once more, stronger, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself, glad that Mori hadn't been cheap when selecting Dazai's entrance gift to the Port Mafia. The black coat was high quality, warming, yet still not enough to shield him from the bitingly cold wind that really was far too harsh for the season.

He'd laughed at first, when Mori had said he was being sent to assassinate a Sorcerer. Then he'd stopped laughing because Mori had looked terribly serious, not a hint of a smile or some other sign that he was joking. Dazai hadn't known what to think, then. He'd just stared as Mori had continued to explain the mission. What right response was there to being told he wouldn't be able to use a map on his phone because the _magic_ of the forest would stop the device from working?

Of course Dazai had been quite sure he was being sent out on a fool's errand. He'd been certain of it, and yet his phone had stopped working about eighty paces into the forest. It had turned itself off and not even resetting the battery had helped. A little less dubious than before Dazai had continued through the trees, following the setting sun and still convinced that Mori was leading him on a wild goose chase for shits and giggles, because the man had told him he was looking for a _tree_. In a _forest_.

Dazai sighed to himself, starting to walk again. He could recall the conversation clearly.

"You'll know the one when you see it" Mori had said, and Dazai had just nodded because hell, Mori still had that scarily serious look on his face and Dazai wasn't about to question him when he looked like that. Of course Dazai would welcome death with open arms, but he also really wasn't a fan of pain, something Mori was all too aware of. Dazai was quite sure that if the man decided to kill him he'd happily drag his death out in some horribly evil fashion.

That thought in mind Dazai had set out into the forest, deciding that the humiliation of wasting his day on a non-existent 'mission' was better than meeting an agonising, likely slow death on one of Mori's operating tables. That had been about six hours ago. He'd give it another hour then head back and declare the mission a spectacular failure.

Dazai was forced from his musings as he came face to face with a tree. Now usually that wouldn't be particularly interesting seeing as he was in a forest, except this tree was _massive_. It towered far above the rest and the trunk was about as thick as the whole of Dazai's bedroom, and his apartment wasn't exactly modest in size _or_ cost.

There was also the fact that the tree had what looked like a fully functioning door at the base of its trunk. Dazai didn't frequent forests, but he was pretty sure that wasn't normal.

The realisation that Mori maybe hadn't turned senile thirty odd years early had Dazai sighing in resigned frustration as he pulled his gun from it's holster. He checked it was loaded, made sure his various knives were safely secured and gave his still useless phone one last glance.

This was it, then. He was going to assassinate a Sorcerer.

* * *

Dazai's shoes didn't make a sound on the floor below him, years of practise keeping his steps light and undetectable. His gun was ready in his hands and he was prepared to shoot as soon as he saw his target.

Unfortunately, finding his target was proving rather difficult.

When he'd walked through that door and stepped into the very trunk of the tree, Dazai had been met with a relatively inoffensive entrance chamber. The walls and floors looked as though they were part of the tree itself, bumpy and knotty like actual wood. But there had also been furniture, decorations and lighting in the form of a solitary gas lantern that shone far brighter than one lone flame ever should.

More importantly to his mission there had been a staircase leading down. Naturally Dazai had taken it, only to be met with a hallway. With no other options to proceed he'd followed it, stopping at each door to listen for any sounds from inside the rooms. He'd never heard anything from behind the doors, so he'd continued down the corridor. It had curved here and there and when it split off into multiple pathways Dazai always took the one to the right.

It was undeniably a Sorcerer's house. At least five meters underground but pleasantly warm, well lit. The walls, ceilings and floor of the hallways seemed to be connected to the tree itself, made of its wood. Dazai had looked in one room out of curiosity and had seen a carpeted floor, a sizeable bookshelves, a plush sofa next to a grand fireplace. He'd raised a questioning eyebrow at what could only be a fire hazard but had continued on, not allowing his curiosity to distract him from his target.

He'd have all the time in the world to explore this place once he killed one Nakahara Chuuya , who was apparently enough of a threat that Mori had sent Dazai on a top-secret mission to deal with him, without any ability to call for backup or extraction because his phone still wouldn't turn on.

Dazai groaned his frustration to the air, as the hallway branched off into not two but _four_ corridors. He'd been exploring the Sorcerer's house for at least an hour now and he was really getting bored. It wouldn't be anywhere near as bad if he could just look inside the rooms, he reasoned. But no, that was not an efficient way to find his target, and from a technical viewpoint quite dangerous.

Of course Dazai had the most effective methods of infiltration and elimination memorised. Some he'd learnt from books, others Mori had taught him personally. They generally worked quite well, but it was becoming apparent that they didn't hold up for a place this impossibly big. He'd spent an hour already simply traversing the main hallways.

If he could find some weird and wonderful thing in the house to give him a nice painless death then he wouldn't have to go to the effort of finding the target at all.

Fuck it. Throwing caution to the wind Dazai flung open the nearest door, stepping into what seemed to be a large storage cupboard of some kind. He looked around in fascination, staring at the shelves of neatly organised items. None of them seemed tarnished with dust or grime and Dazai quickly deduced that the house must have some kind of self cleaning property because if someone were to dust every room in the house by hand it would take _days_. Curious Dazai stepped closer to the shelves and peered into one of the jars, grimacing as he identified the contents as severed frogs legs. The next jar was far less disgusting, full of a strange shimmering dust that shifted colours whenever he turned his head.

A solid seventeen minutes was spent exploring the contents of the closet. Some things he recognised, others were completely new and more still had him recoiling in horror or leaning closer in wonder. He stepped back with a grimace as he decided he'd seen enough loose eyeballs to last him a lifetime, turning around and walking back into the hallway, shutting the closet door behind him.

It was subtle, but of course Dazai still noticed. His eyes narrowed as he honed in on the differences; the lamp was two feet further to the right. A painting sat on a chest, an illustration of a city Dazai had never seen. Eyes still darting around the hallway his left hand moved down to the inside of his coat, resting over a knife, his right hand tightening its grip on his gun. He would not be taken by surprise.

It took a minute of frantic mental brainstorming to realise that the house had _changed_ while he was inside the closet. As far as he could tell hallways had shifted and rooms had moved. The implications of that were.. difficult. The house could have been changing this whole time, shifting behind him as he continued unawares. That meant that he had no idea where his current location was in comparison to the entrance, which was supposed to be his exit.

He could have been walking in an endless loop this whole time.

A humourless smile pulled at his lips even as he repressed a shudder at that particular thought. He'd always found it so very fascinating just how easily the hunter could become the hunted. Well. At least things weren't boring anymore.

* * *

Dazai prowled the Hallways with renewed vigour, throwing open whichever doors took his fancy. There was no procedure for this, no rules binding him. This was no longer an operation, this was a _hunt_.

Some rooms Dazai didn't step into, others he did. Sometimes because they peaked his curiosity and at other times just to see what the house would do. It didn't disappoint him, shifting sometimes so imperceptibly that Dazai took full minutes to realise he'd been turned around, or sometimes that he was in a different part of the house entirely.

He never lingered in one room for more than a few minutes. He didn't run either, keeping his pace to a fast walk. It was terrifying, thrilling and Dazai found himself very grateful that Mori had chosen him for this mission. It would have been just a simple assassination, him and the Sorcerer. But now a third party was involved -the house itself- and that made things far, far more interesting.

Dazai's fun was bought to a sudden stop as the hallway ended in a door, one wholly unremarkable compared to the rest of the doors he'd faced. However when Dazai opened the door he found a wall of solid, presumably living wood in front of him. With a frown he backed out of the doorway. It was no matter. He'd just try other doors, perhaps find another hallway emerging from one of the other rooms.

So he tried the door to his left, only to find the same. A wall of wood that he rapped his knuckles against, discovering that it wasn't hollow. There was nothing on the other side, nothing to somehow break through to. Not sure what else to do Dazai tried the door to his right, feeling the creeping starts of mild irritation as he was faced with another wall. How unfair, for the house to suddenly decide their game was over.

Dazai turned, groaning to himself -he wondered, for just a moment, if the house could hear- as realisation settled in too late. There was no more hallway. Where the corridor had before stretched out behind him there was now a simple dead end.

He was boxed in. A trap, then. How rude. He bit at his lip in nervous frustration, mind working desperately to figure out what the game was here. He'd played with the house, allowing himself to be pulled into an unwinnable maze of doors and hallways. There had been seemingly no consequence as he hadn't been pursued.

That was all well and good, but there was one player left that Dazai was now painfully and suddenly aware he'd sorely underestimated. He'd failed to find the mage.

"So, are you finished snooping around my home yet or should I give you another hour or two?"

Dazai was far too dignified to shriek, but he couldn't help the way he _leapt_ as a voice spoke right into his ear. Turning, Dazai found himself face to face with what could only be the Sorcerer. In a glance he took in the man's details, comparing them with the profile Mori had given him.

Ginger. Grey-blue eyes. 160cm. Approximately 50kg. Pale. Hat. _This is the target_.

Dazi didn't waste a second. On occasion he'd play with his targets, engage them in a battle of words, perhaps allow them to think he might be soft, might allow them escape. It granted him additional information, sometimes. But with this one Mori didn't want information, he wanted the Sorcerer _dead_.

Seeing as Nakahara Chuuya had ruined his game with the house, Dazai was happy to oblige.

His gun came up first and he pulled the trigger three times, only to stare down at his pistol in confused shock as it didn't fire. It was a custom Sauer P226, it didn't just _break_. Snarling in frustration Dazai pulled the trigger again to no effect. Irritated that things weren't working out how they were meant to he glared at the stupid Wizard, lips twisting into an angry frown at the far too self satisfied smirk on his target's face.

"It's a handy trick, yeah? Stop glaring, I only emptied your gun. Guess you'll just have to come back and try to kill me another day."

Dazai stared as the man turned away from him and started walking back down the hallway, which had somehow re-appeared without Dazai noticing, which was ridiculous because he'd been facing it the _entire time_. It was rare that Dazai felt this worked up, but the Sorcerer had pissed him off.

There was no point in masking his emotions when he was going to kill the man anyway.

In a flash one knife was flying through the air towards Nakahara's back, Dazai darting forwards with the other blade, going straight for the carotid artery. Dazai didn't know how to even _start_ reacting as his own knife _flew_ out of his hand, thudding straight up into the ceiling. All the knives he had hidden in his coat and trousers and even his shoes followed, flying up and into the ceiling, which was left looking like the world's most murdery pincushion.

Dazai didn't have time to feel cheated. He blinked and the sorcerer was _gone_, and then he could only grunt in protest as the full weight of a body that felt decidedly closer to sixty kilograms than fifty slammed into him, sending him down to the floor. Dazai struggled and thrashed as he was pinned, the full weight of a body sitting on his back. Nakahara only applied more pressure in retaliation, one hand pinning his arm too far back and the other pressing his face into the floor, fingers gripping tight in his hair. Dazai hissed in a pained breath as clever fingers dug straight into pressure points he hadn't even known he had.

"Don't be too put out, you never could have won." That voice was like silk and Dazai didn't trust it one bit. He rankled as he decided the Sorcerer was being deliberately condescending, trying to squirm his way out from under the man but that only lead to a pained whine as Nakahara shifted his fingers and suddenly Dazai's whole right arm felt like it was burning. "Whoever sent you to assassinate a Sorcerer in their own home is a fool. Now _stand down_."

Dazai stubbornly refused, grunting and wriggling even as his arm screamed at him in protest, only to let out a shriek as fingers dug deeper into places they weren't meant to be. He hissed through the pain, only for the noise to turn into a snarled "_fine_" as he realised the burn wasn't fading out over time.

Nakahara was off of him without a moment's delay, rising to his feet and readjusting his clothing as though there hadn't just been an attempt on his life. Dazai rose to his feet warily, gingerly rubbing at his aching arm. The Sorcerer had exploited pressure points Dazai had never heard of, and Mori had taught him _all_ of them.

"How did you do that to my knives?" Dazai reckoned that was a reasonable first question as he glanced up at his arsenal of blades. They were still stuck into the ceiling and they didn't look like they'd be falling out on their own. Some he didn't care for. Others he was rather attached to. They deserved better than being stuck in a ceiling forever.

The Sorcerer, however, did not seem impressed. "Huh? What do you mean, 'how did I do that'? With magic, obviously!"

Dazai squinted at him, allowing his arm to drop back to his side. The pain was fading quickly. "Are you on drugs? Magic isn't real. Idiot" He supposed if he was going to be killed he might as well go out with the last laugh. The Sorcerer's expression was certainly funny enough.

He wondered what Mori would say. Would he mourn? No. No, probably not.

"You're in a house that's been rearranging itself. I disarmed you without even touching you! How the hell could you say-" a telltale pause as realisation dawned, and then; "you're fucking with me, aren't you!?"

Dazai's responding grin was more than enough in answer. He watched as the Sorcerer fumed. It was amusing, although Dazai was a little disappointed that someone so blatantly powerful was still so very straightforward. So awfully _human_. He watched as Nakahara Chuuya took a deep breath, schooled his expression to one of calm if a little disapproval, even as he still held his hands on his hips in anger.

Predictable.

"Whatever. I want to know why you're here, and all that crap. Let's talk over dinner."

Dazai stared, not quite sure he'd heard that right. And then he realised he _had_ heard it right and his smirk stretched into a genuinely amused smile, even as his hand drifted habitually to the still empty gun in his right pocket.

"Dinner. Yes, of course."

Well then. Perhaps Nakahara wasn't _entirely_ predictable after all.

* * *

In our next chapter, 'Arsenic':

Dazai seemed to be enthralled by the whole wall full of shelves top to bottom, holding jars and pots of different dried ingredients. The man's attention seemed entirely focused on inspecting his surroundings, but Chuuya hadn't missed that he'd slipped a knife up the sleeve of his coat and a well sharpened fork into an inside pocket.

He supposed that was only fair. Dazai was supposed to be killing him, after all. Chuuya wasn't expecting him to give that up easily.

So! This is my first BSD fic and I've had a bit of trouble characterising these two but I think I sorted it out alright in editing? But if Dazai isn't Dazai-y enough I apologise.

And just to clean things up in case anyone's confused; in this AU there are abilities, but they're completely separate from magic. Chuuya isn't gifted, so No Longer Human doesn't work on him.


	2. 2: Arsenic

Two: Arsenic

Chuuya didn't quite know what to make of the man hovering in his kitchen.

The man had been a snarling, vicious thing when they were fighting, but out of combat he was far more composed, almost withdrawn. Chuuya had asked for his name as he lead him to the kitchen and the man had simply responded "Dazai", a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

He was a troublemaker, that much was evident. A mischievous assassin that had spent _hours_ playing with the house before Chuuya had stepped in. Nobody had accepted his house's game before, not like this Dazai man had. He'd seemed to relish in the maze, and the house had been quite pleased with that response.

It had to have been, because otherwise his house would have killed the man. Disappearing staircases, crushing vines, moving walls.. His home knew many ways to kill people and it was never hesitant to employ them on trespassers. After the fourth death Chuuya had charmed the forest itself to stop innocent civilians entering his home. Human curiosity was dangerous. Wanderers would see a door in a tree and feel as though they just _had_ to enter.

Dazai wasn't like that, though. The man must have sought out his house specifically, because otherwise he would never have found it. Chuuya already knew that it was one Ōgai Mori who'd sent the assassin. He'd recognise the telltale black coat of a valued Port Mafia member anywhere.

Even as Chuuya had his back to the intruder he was aware of his movements, could sense them in the air. Dazai was looking around the kitchen, his steps still carefully silent as he moved about the room. Chuuya was preparing dinner, mixing a bowl of herbs and spices from faraway lands, some of which had been long forgotten by the public. A good stew required good seasoning.

Dazai seemed to be enthralled by the whole wall full of shelves top to bottom, holding jars and pots of different dried ingredients. The man's attention seemed entirely focused on inspecting his surroundings, but Chuuya hadn't missed that he'd slipped a knife up the sleeve of his coat and a well sharpened fork into an inside pocket.

He supposed that was only fair. Dazai was supposed to be killing him, after all. Chuuya wasn't expecting him to give that up easily.

* * *

"Dinner is served!" Chuuya didn't miss the way Dazai flinched at his sudden call, but the man had a smile plastered on his face less than a second later. What a strange one this human was. Chuuya returned the smile politely, although his own was more sharp teeth and jagged edges than Dazai's polite little thing. Chuuya was trying to be hospitable but he was still quite annoyed that his dinner preparations had been interrupted in the first place.

"What is it? It smells strong." Chuuya nodded in response as he ladelled a generous helping of stew onto the two plates he'd set at the table. Satisfied with the serving size he took his seat, gesturing for Dazai to do the same.

"It's a relatively simple goat stew, with some rice to balance out the richness." He explained, pouring himself and then the man a cup of the Cheval Blanc he'd been saving for a special occasion. He supposed this was as good a time as any. "There's a good bit of alcohol in it though, you may find it a bit too strong."

The man raised an eyebrow at him from across the table, even as he took a mouthful of the stew before pulling a face at the richness. "Oh wow, it is strong.. are you trying to get me drunk, Nakahara san?"

Chuuya laughed at that, shaking his head "Not quite, although that _could_ be arranged.. and it's Chuuya. Just Chuuya."

Dazai simply nodded his acknowledgment at that, and Chuuya watched as Dazai took a sip of the wine, his eyes widening in surprise at the taste. "Is this.. what make is this?"

Chuuya couldn't hold back his smirk. It had taken him far longer than it should have to hunt down this particular bottle. "Cheval Blanc 1947, Saint-Emilion"

Really, the look on the would be assassin's face was well worth the cost of the bottle. "But that's- the last bottle of this sold for a hundred and thirty five thousand _dollars_. I don't even like wine!"

Chuuya just shrugged to that, already about a quarter of a way through his own stew by now. It was good, although he thought it could do with a couple more dashes of those blue flowers he'd collected from Ingary. Dazai meanwhile seemed to have forgotten about the stew in his shock at the somewhat extortionate cost of the wine. "Whatever, you don't have to have anymore after that glass. Also - ah, I didn't cut up the goat properly. Can I borrow your knife?"

"But I don't have a knife..?" Chuuya just raised an eyebrow and then his hand, and Dazai's hidden knife flew straight out from up his sleeve into Chuuya's waiting hand. Chuuya went about cutting up his too-large piece of goat without delay, ignoring the way Dazai was gaping at him. When he was done he placed the knife down carefully, before directing his gaze up at Dazai.

"Now then. You're with the Port Mafia, correct?"

Chuuya had said it casually, as though he were simply commenting on the weather, but he saw the way Dazai tensed at the accusation. "I am?"

"You are." He confirmed, quickly chewing and swallowing another mouthful of stew. "Mori hasn't changed his taste in clothing. That coat was your welcoming gift, yes? You must be quite close to him."

Chuuya watched in fascination as Dazai's expression closed off completely for several seconds before he flashed a charming smile. It didn't reach his eyes. "Well, if you already have all the answers I suppose there's no point in me being here, is there?"

Chuuya didn't say anything as Dazai rose from his seat, rushing towards the doorway with the posture and speed of someone that expected to be stopped. Chuuya didn't even spare him a second glance, turning back to his dinner and finishing it at a leisurely pace. When he was done he sipped his wine, frowning at Dazai's plate. The man hadn't even finished half his meal, _or_ his wine.

He supposed that was understandable. Nobody really _liked_ eating poison.

With a sigh he stood, throwing the remains of Dazai's dish into the food waste before putting the empty plates into the sink. When he came back they'd be clean. Contemplating his actions Chuuya returned to his wine glass, refilling it before heading out into the hallway, glass in hand.

It wouldn't even be a chase.

* * *

It didn't take Chuuya long at all to find him. The house told him where Dazai was and all it took was for Chuuya to teleport behind him. As soon as he appeared in the corridor Dazai turned on him, eyes betraying anger even as he kept his face well schooled into a neutral expression.

"Let me out of here!" Chuuya grinned. That was the voice of an animal that _knew_ it was trapped, and the predatory beast inside of Chuuya was very, _very_ pleased.

"So you realise now his pointless running away is, then? This house is _mine_, Dazai. You won't _ever_ find the exit if I don't let you."

Dazai didn't seemed pleased to hear that, not at all. He glared death at Chuuya but the Sorcerer only smiled in response, taking a long drink of his wine.

"How are you even still standing?" Dazai hissed at him and Chuuya grinned, straightening up to his full height, even if it didn't let him look down on the man that was in all other aspects lesser than him.

"You're not the only one that's built an immunity to arsenic, although I'm _very_ impressed you managed to sneak it into the pot without me noticing."

A few seconds of silence and glaring later and Dazai sighed, drawing his arms across his chest. Chuuya was reminded of a child. "Fine. What do you want?"

Chuuya smiled, glad that the man had finally stopped resisting him. "See! Look how easy things can be when you're _not_ trying to kill me! Come on, I'll make you some toast and we can discuss my plans for you. Sound good?"

He ignored the noise Dazai made that indicated this was not in fact 'good'. Without further ado Chuuya clapped a hand on Dazai's shoulder and teleported them both back to the kitchen. Wasting no time he turned to the counter and started to make them both some toast, before pouring and handing Dazai a glass of orange juice. "Here you go. First time teleporting is always a little rough, this should get your sugar back up."

Dazai accepted the glass with a mutter of "thanks" and Chuuya turned back to his cupboards, examining them thoughtfully before turning back to Dazai. "Hey, what do you want on your toast?"

A moment of hesitation and then; "Uh.. do you have chocolate spread?"

Chuuya couldn't help but grin at that, even as he turned back to his cupboard to find the requested chocolate spread. "The fierce assassin wants chocolate spread? Are you sure?" He teased, laughing as he felt Dazai glaring daggers into his back. He'd missed this. It had been such a very long time since he'd interacted with someone for more than a few minutes.

"Come on, I'm only teasing. I'm having honey so I'm really not much better." He handed Dazai the jar or chocolate spread and a plate, floating the toast through the air and over onto the plates once it had popped out of the toaster. Dazai stared in amazement before coming back to himself, looking down at Chuuya.

"How did you do that? With the moving from the hall and then to here earlier?"

Chuuya nodded as he poured honey over his toast. That was a reasonable question. "Teleporting" he confirmed, hopping up to sit on the edge of the counter so he could look down at Dazai "I slip through folds in reality to move from one place to the other. It's great."

Dazai nodded in agreement, chewing at his own toast thoughtfully "Yeah, I can imagine.. is that what you did to my gun earlier? When you made the bullets disappear?" Chuuya flashed a grin at the slight accusatory undertone to Dazai's voice. He was still bitter about that defeat, then.

"Yes, now you're starting to get it! You have exactly zero chance of ever beating me. I have been wondering about something though. Why didn't you use your magic when you attacked me earlier?"

He watched as Dazai almost dropped his plate "I.. excuse me?"

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at how taken by surprise Dazai seemed. Had he hit some kind of sore spot? Perhaps Dazai didn't like using his magic. "You still wouldn't beat me, I was just curious. You're practically overflowing with dark magic. I just assumed you'd learnt some murder oriented spells, being an assassin and all that."

Dazai just stared and then shook his head, layering some more chocolate spread onto his toast as he spoke. "I'm not a wizard." He stated, but Chuuya wasn't believing that for a second.

"Yes you are." He insisted, and that earned him a glare from Dazai. At least it was decidedly less murdery than earlier. He was glad Dazai wasn't as reserved as he'd first seemed.

"I'm not!" Dazai insisted from around a mouthful of toast. The man crossed his arms as Chuuya laughed at him, Dazai chewing and swallowing his mouthful before continuing. "You're the first magician I've ever met. I don't know anything about magic."

Chuuya's nose wrinkled in disgust at that and he shot Dazai a look of disapproval. "I'm not some sellout 'magician', I'm a _sorcerer_." He ignored the look Dazai gave him, finishing off his toast instead "Whatever. If you want to insist you know nothing about magic then fine. Doesn't change the fact you're full of it."

Chuuya could sense it in the air. Dazai was brimming with dark magic, radiating with the kind of energy levels that no novice mage could achieve. Chuuya felt Dazai's magic twist and curl in the space around them both, recoiling whenever it met Chuuya's own magical energy, repelled by the viciousness of it.

Chuuya sighed at the reminder of what he'd done to his own energy, starting to clear up his kitchen, talking to Dazai as he did. "It wouldn't matter even if you were a mage, we couldn't work together. Collaborative spells require calculations and perfectly balanced energy, but if we tried my magic would overpower yours, tip the balance and ruin the spell. Besides." Chuuya turned, meeting Dazai's eyes where the man had tried to sneak up behind him, stolen fork in hand. "I have more than enough energy to perform all the spells I need. Alone."

Chuuya ignored Dazai's frown as he took the fork off of him and returned it to its rightful place in the cutlery draw. He watched as Dazai sighed to himself and sat down at the kitchen table, seemingly done with assassination attempts. For now.

"That's all well and good, but it doesn't actually matter because I _don't have magic_. Why would your magic tip the balance anyway? Is that normal for strong sorcerers?"

Chuuya squashed the little surge of self satisfaction he felt over Dazai calling him strong, because he certainly didn't need validation from an assassin that hadn't even succeeded at killing him. "No, it's just a me thing. My energy is very different from the energy of anyone else, so it makes collaborative work almost impossible."

He had to admit that it was odd that Dazai couldn't sense it, the viciousness of Arahabaki, a deity of anger and suffering. All that rage and power, sealed up inside Chuuya. Anyone trained even the slightest bit in magic could sense it, but Dazai hadn't given any indication he knew what lurked inside Chuuya.

Perhaps he really wasn't a sorcerer, then. But that didn't explain all the power stored inside him.

Setting the mystery aside for how Chuuya took his seat opposite Dazai at the table, the man offering him a polite smile as their eyes met. Chuuya returned it as he poured himself another glass of wine, the last of the bottle. A shame, but he had many more bottles of equal value.

"So. You'll be staying with me for the foreseeable future."

Dazai's eyebrows shot up, a silent demand for an explanation. Chuuya sighed but nodded, supposing one was necessary. "My house didn't kill you and that's _rare_ for trespassers. You're also a mystery. You _also_ know where my house is now, so I can't exactly let you go. Mori can't find it anyway, although I doubt he'd want to."

"He wouldn't? I'm pretty sure he wants you dead."

Chuuya nodded happily, feeling altogether very pleased with himself. "Yes, he would. But that bastard's terrified of me, he'd never come here in person. Not in a million years."

He watched as Dazai frowned, seeming to run the information over in his head, processing. Mori had always been careful to make sure his subordinates thought he wasn't scared of anything, not really. Cautious when needed yes, but never true _fear_. Chuuya knew better.

One thing Mori definitely feared was encountering people stronger than him, and Chuuya was most certainly that.

"So what, I'm your slave?"

Chuuya frowned, quick to shake his head in denial. He was sure Dazai was jumping to the worst possible conclusion just to irritate him, but it still unsettled Chuuya. "No, definitely not a slave. I won't be getting you to do any work, most things around here are automated."

It was Dazai's turn to frown now, although Chuuya couldn't discern what he was turning over in his head this time. He'd already pegged that Dazai was a troublemaker, but he also seemed to have quite the sharp mind. "So what will I be doing then?"

"You'll just have to sit around and figure out a way to entertain yourself." He shrugged, then smiled as he realised he'd have someone to cook for "Hey, I'll even feed you!"

Dazai raised an incredulous eyebrow "What, like a pet?"

"Exactly! That's it, you're my pet now. Happy?" Chuuya couldn't help but grin because Dazai didn't look _at all_ impressed with this turn of events.

"Not particularly."

* * *

In our next chapter, 'Missing Their Heads':

Dazai decided to dwell on the specifics later, backing out of the room and heading a few more paces down the hallway, before throwing open another door. Guest bedroom. Another. There was nothing in the next room, but it smelled strongly of cherries. Dazai opened another door, and any traces of a smile dropped off his face.

* * *

My tumblr is "eschatona" and My Instagram is "eschatona", I'm always open to chat/answer questions about this fic/future fics etc (:

Okay so this is just an AU and obviously Chuuya's powers aren't real, but I have done a bit of research into Wicca for this fic in the hopes I can make it feel like Chuuya's powers are more realistically grounded in something? There probably won't even be that many mentions of the practises surrounding Wicca, but if I do end up using terminology or just get something wrong in general, please point it out because I have no idea how accurate my research was (':


	3. 3: Missing Their Heads

Three: Missing Their Heads

See end notes for this chapter's trigger warnings

* * *

Dazai woke silently as always, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move at first, instead listening closely. Upon confirming there was nobody in the room but himself Dazai sat up in bed, stretching with a soft groan as his joints popped.

Last night Chuuya had shown him to what was apparently one of many guest rooms. The bed was comfortable enough but had done little to ease the ever present tension from his back, shoulders. He ached, but it was easy enough to ignore because he _always_ ached.

Yawning, Dazai stared down at his rumpled suit. He'd slept in it and now it was horribly creased, imprinting it's folds into his skin. He slipped out of bed and stood up, grimacing at the way his bandages were clinging to him more noticeably than usual. He didn't usually like to sleep in them precisely because they always felt off afterwards. He chewed at his already chapped bottom lip absently, realising that if he was to stay here for more than a few days he'd have to ask Chuuya for a change of bandages. That would be difficult, because he had no doubt such a request would raise questions.

Dazai didn't like questions. Whenever someone asked about his bandages he'd usually just laugh it off and say he had a skin disease. Even if they didn't believe him, most people wouldn't want to question any further in fear of angering him. Dazai suspected Chuuya wouldn't buy the lie and also wouldn't be worried about offending him, seeing as how spectacularly he'd defeated Dazai yesterday.

He was outmatched. That always added an extra layer of difficulty to getting the upper hand.

Dazai wondered what the time was, glanced up at the clock on the wall for an answer. It had just turned four in the morning. Ah, then he'd slept for about two and a half hours. Adequate.

He made towards the doorway then paused as he noticed the wardrobe door was slightly open. He'd spent three hours inspecting every corner of this room last night, in part out of curiosity but mostly to check for threats and the possibility of recording devices. He hadn't found any, but he had _definitely_ shut the wardrobe door.

Slowly he walked over, pulled the door all the way open with a soft creak. He stared in surprise at what had once been an empty wardrobe and was now full of clothes. He moved over to the chest of drawers and started pulling draws open, seeing that they too were now full of clothes. And there, laying on top of a pile of boxers of different cuts and styles, was a pack of fresh bandages.

He was slower to process than usual, in his shock. But eventually his brain whirred into action and he sat back on the edge of the bed, thinking things over. This discovery had several implications.

First and most importantly it meant that Chuuya had entered the room and put clothes in the wardrobe and closet, all while Dazai had been sleeping. Dazai could only assume he'd used some kind of spell to mask the noise because Chuuya entering the room should have been enough to wake him up. It also meant that Chuuya had seen him sleeping. Dazai didn't like that thought, and was thankful at least that he'd left his bandages on last night.

Was Chuuya going to come into his room regularly? Would he have to sleep with his bandages on all the time?

Second. Chuuya buying him this abundance of clothes meant he genuinely intended for Dazai to stay around for a significant amount of time. It also meant he was nice enough to buy him clothes and wasn't just going to leave him in the same creased old suit for who knows how long.

Dazai wasn't sure what to do with that information, so he catalogued it for later inspection.

A little more hesitantly this time he opened up the wardrobe again, apprehensive due to Chuuya's style choices. Last night the man had been wearing a dark purple shirt that he'd left unbuttoned and tucked into his black trousers, that were loose fitting and relatively high waisted. Dazai wasn't completely sure but he thought Chuuya might have been wearing combat boots, too.

Strangest of all had been the cloak. It had been deep blue in colour, cut just above floor length and impossibly soft looking. Also the hat. Dazai wasn't a hat person.

Despite his qualms Dazai was pleasantly surprised as he started pulling clothes out of the wardrobe. He examined them all, considered staying in his old clothes just to be stubborn. After thoroughly inspecting every article of clothing Dazai reluctantly decided to change, mostly because Chuuya had bought him cashmere sweaters and Dazai wasn't about to turn those down.

After changing the bandages Dazai ended up wearing loose black trousers and a new but not overly starched button-down dress shirt, which he slipped a warm looking charcoal v-neck sweater over. It felt as comfy as it looked and Dazai left the bedroom feeling the coziest he'd felt in years.

He'd even left his tie on the bed. He'd spent several minutes deliberating but had eventually decided against wearing it. He wouldn't be killing anyone, not today.

* * *

"Chuuuya, where are you going?" Dazai watched as Chuuya got ready, now wearing clothes a little more suitable for an outing into the city. Dazai had taken the time to really examine the man's appearance this morning while he'd eaten breakfast for the first time in months. Chuuya was covered in jewellery; earrings, several bracelets and necklaces and a handful of piercings in each ear. There were even feathers and jewels braided into his hair and Dazai reasoned they had to be for some kind of _purpose_. Either that or Chuuya just really, really liked looking shiny.

Chuuya was smiling, adjusting the black coat he'd stolen from Dazai, glancing at himself in one of the wall mirrors in the entrance chamber. Dazai hadn't had it in him to complain when Chuuya had borrowed his coat without so much as asking, partly because it looked rather nice on Chuuya, if a little long.

"For the third time, I'm going grocery shopping. I haven't got enough food stocked for two people" Seeming to deem his appearance worthy of the public gaze Chuuya turned from the mirror and grabbed an umbrella from the rack before turning to look at Dazai. "I meant to ask, you only slept about two hours last night, yeah? Are you okay? Do you need me to change something in your room?"

"Hm? Oh no, it's fine, nothing needs changing!" Dazai tried to leave his explanation at that but Chuuya was giving him a _look_. He shifted, trying not to let his discomfort at personal questions show as he elaborated "I sleep in four hour bursts maximum. It's, uh, good for the immune system."

Chuuya's raised eyebrow suggested he knew exactly how good that sleeping pattern _wasn't_ for the immune system, but Dazai just stuck his tongue out in response. He didn't need to explain himself. He didn't even understand his sleeping habits, himself. Maybe it was to do with always being alert for missions? Yeah, that sounded about right.

He was relieved as Chuuya sighed and shook his head but didn't say anything more on the matter, instead shifting conversation back to the matter of groceries. "Is there anything you want me to get you in particular?" Dazai considered it for a moment and then shrugged in response, uncertain. Eating was an unfortunate human necessity that he only put up with because starvation wasn't by any means a painless death.

"I want whatever Chuuya wants~" It was the only response Dazai could offer, because there wasn't an easy way to explain why he didn't know what his favourite food was. Chuuya didn't even bother questioning that, apparently not wanting to deal with Dazai's unorthodox lifestyle choices. Good. Instead of talking further Chuuya turned and picked up his suspiciously small shopping bag. He'd said earlier that it was bottomless. Dazai didn't know whether or not to believe him.

"Right. See you in a couple of hours, don't let the house kill you."

Dazai blinked and Chuuya was gone. He stared in amazement at the spot he'd been standing in just a second ago, still baffled by the fact that Chuuya was _actually_ a Sorcerer. He'd expected it to all be lies, for Mori to have followed in the path of the previous boss and lost his mind, or even for Chuuya to just be really _really_ good at optical illusions.

He'd considered the wonder of it all last night, in the simple room that Chuuya had given him. Life was so very boring and there was so precious little that surprised him, these days. He had a couple of choice friends but it was too dangerous to get any closer than he already was to them, because he just _knew_ Mori wouldn't like that. The thrill of a good assassination or a well laid trap succeeding came and went, but it was all temporary. Fleeting, and every mission grew less exciting and more repetitive.

Dazai wouldn't even consider himself a sadistic person, not really. At first he'd relished in his missions because they were something new, something interesting. But now he'd seen so many scenarios play out that he could identify the similarities between every scenario. Nothing was really unexpected anymore.

Nothing, until this house. Dazai looked around at the walls, at the staircase that would lead up to the ever shifting hallway. He estimated that the house itself could keep him entertained for at least a month. Chuuya too, who was proving to be far more than the predictable fake that Dazai had first chalked him up as. He was a genuine Sorcerer and he carried a sense of wisdom with him that Dazai had first missed behind his attitude. Chuuya was almost as recalcitrant as he was suave. Dazai didn't know what to make of it.

Dazai knew he'd be entertained here, if only for a few months. Being Chuuya's 'pet' didn't even sound so bad, really. He'd been at Mori's beck and call for almost ten years now, even if the man allowed him the illusion of free will. At least Chuuya was upfront with him, told him that here he would basically be the equivalent of a particularly intelligent -and demanding- house cat.

_I won't miss the missions._

Dazai sighed as that particular thought hooked into the forefront of his mind and refused to let go. What even was the point of dwelling on that? Fine, he wouldn't miss the missions. That didn't change the fact that he had to at least _try_ and escape. Mori would know if he didn't. Dazai didn't know how he'd know, he was just certain the man would find out somehow, and then his life really wouldn't be worth living.

He turned to the doorway, resigned, only to come up short as he saw there was no handle on the front door. It just wasn't there, which was very odd seeing as he was absolutely certain it had been there less than a minute ago, and it had _definitely_ been there when he'd infiltrated the house yesterday. He turned, eyeing the staircase suspiciously, before looking back at what had once been a functioning door to Chuuya's house.

Dazai frowned, running his hand over smooth wood, realising that even the door itself was now set firmly into the wall. He wouldn't even be able to force it open. Odd. He hadn't realised the house's influence reached all the way up into the entrance hall. Clearly _it_ had done this, maybe because Chuuya had left?

The sudden sense of claustrophobia practically knocked the breath out of him and Dazai had to grip onto the wall for support. He was trapped. There was genuinely no way for him to exit the house. He hissed in a breath before gritting his teeth, turning and hurrying down the staircase, taking the steps three at a time.

He had the opportunity to explore Chuuya's house at his own pace, without having to worry about missions or targets. He certainly wasn't about to let a silly little thing like claustrophobia stop him. This could very well be one of the rare once in a lifetime opportunities he lived for, so Dazai grasped it with both hands and _pulled_.

* * *

It had been at least three hours.

Dazai had absolutely no idea where he was and he found himself increasingly okay with that as time went on. Now that Chuuya was out of the picture Dazai could sense that same feeling of playfulness from the house. It was in the way it shifted when he wasn't expecting it, or tried to trick him into going back on himself. Dazai was happy to play along, practically prancing down the hallways as he explored, opening every door he came across.

With a delighted hum he threw open another door, faced with his fourth storage cupboard of the day. This one was full of weird liquids in jars. Some were shiny, some looked like plain water and one was floating around it's container. The next door opened to a library and Dazai quickly recognised it as the same room he'd looked into last night. He stared at the plush carpets and the fireplace. If this entire house really was made out of tree, surely that had to be a fire hazard?

He decided to dwell on the specifics later, backing out the room and heading a few more paces down the hallway before opening another door. Guest bedroom. Another. There was nothing in this one, but the whole room smelt of cherries. Dazai swung open another door and any traces of a smile dropped off his face.

Blood. Surgical tables. IVs connected to half filled fluid bags. His eyes burned and his mind raced as he tried to take it all in at once. Surgical equipment scattered across the floor, some still bloody. Organs. _Corpses_. There were bodies, some on tables and some on the floor, and _two of them were missing their heads_.

Dazai couldn't even stumble back in his horror, frozen to the spot. His eyes kept darting around the room, gathering new pieces of information and none of it was good. His mind was working furiously but wasn't producing anything helpful, cycling and looping back to the same conclusion. _You're going to die. This is it, you should've known. Chuuya's going to kill you. Chuuya's going to kill you and you -_

He gasped as a hand slid over his eyes, blocking his view. His body went rigid in fear and he didn't move, because the darkness had to be better than the scene that he was sure would be seared into his memories. The bodies and the organs and the _heads_ and oh god, he was hyperventilating. He was hyperventilating and he was going to die.

"Shh pet, you're okay. Breathe. Come on, breathe with me." He choked on the laugh that split from his mouth, came with wondering if those words would be more comforting if they weren't uttered by a _murderer_. Chuuya didn't move his hand from his eyes though and Dazai was suddenly hyper aware that an arm had slid around his waist, holding him close, pressing him back against Chuuya's chest.

Chuuya was still wearing Dazai's coat.

He couldn't move, couldn't get away. Couldn't speak either, not like this, so he took the only option left; he breathed, forcing lungfuls of air in through his nose and out through his mouth until his mind stopped swimming and he could actually noticed the words of encouragement Chuuya was murmuring in his ear.

Overtaken by a sudden disgust he forced his way out of Chuuya's grasp, all bony elbows and sharp edges. He levelled Chuuya with a glare, body tensed and ready to try and flee at one wrong move from Chuuya, Sorcerer and magic house be damned.

"You're _experimenting_ on people?" He hissed, tone entirely accusatory even as his distress seeped into his voice. "Is that your plan for me!?"

Dazai was expecting anger that he'd found out or perhaps even some semblance of guilt. Instead Chuuya looked equally disgusted at the suggestion, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. "Of course not! You're _my_ pet, and that means you're _mine_ to look after." Dazai watched as Chuuya took a deep breath and then changed tact, as though realising that staking his claim over Dazai would not explain away what was in the room behind them. "I _rescued_ these people Dazai, from a man you know well. _He_ was the one experimenting on them. I tried to fix them but the damage was irreparable, unbearable for them. They all killed themselves."

Dazai felt cold creeping up his spine and dread rising in his throat like bile. Maybe it was bile. "Who? Who did that to them?" He asked, ignoring the sympathetic look Chuuya gave him as his voice shook. It didn't matter how scared he was, he _had_ to know. He didn't look away from Chuuya's eyes, silently demanding an answer but Chuuya just shook his head, a sad smile on his face.

"I think you already know the answer to that, pet."

That angered Dazai, who for once allowed himself to really _feel _the anger because Chuuya _wasn't_ Mori, he didn't punish emotions. He didn't, couldn't, not when he was such an emotional man himself. Had to be, because only an emotional person would go out of his way to rescue victims of human experimentation.

"Tell me!" Dazai snapped, and Chuuya just sighed but didn't shake his head again. Instead he stepped close and wrapped Dazai's trembling body into a hug, leaning in close so he could murmur the damning words in Dazai's ear.

"Ougai Mori"

Dazai felt himself shudder but he forced himself to nod, hiding his face in his own coat for just a moment, before taking a deep breath and pulling away, staring up into those enchanting blue eyes.

"What are you cooking for me tonight, then? After three hours of grocery shopping you must have _something_ in mind."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that, taking one last glance at the room behind them before closing the door. Dazai had the strangest feeling that he'd never be seeing that room again. "Tonight? It's lunchtime Dazai, I was thinking sandwiches?"

"Lunch.. oh, yes! Do we have to? I don't usually have lunch." Chuuya's smile seemed less forced than Dazai's as the sorcerer shook his head, placing a gentle hand on Dazai's arm and teleporting them both to the kitchen. Dazai tried his best not to sway, the sudden move leaving him unsteady on his feet.

"Nope, no getting out of lunch for you! No wonder you're so damn bony" Dazai stared, affronted as Chuuya poked him in the sides, clearly trying to prove his point.

"I am _not_ bony!" He insisted, despite knowing full well that he very much was. He ignored the part of his brain that was lagging behind, still trying to process that someone had just touched him so casually. His mind would catch up eventually. He followed Chuuya over to the counters as the man started unpacking groceries. There were so _many_, all coming out of that one bag.

"This is a lot of food" Chuuya nodded at Dazai's comment, starting to unload meat into the fridge.

"Yeah, I only tend to go food shopping once a month or so." He explained, and Dazai turned back to look at the food bag only to realise it was already empty, even though Chuuya _definitely_ hadn't unpacked everything. "Right, that's all of it! I like barbecue chicken and lettuce sandwiches, would you like to try that?"

Dazai just shrugged and Chuuya seemed to take that as a yes, turning around and starting to prepare lunch. Not really knowing what else to do Dazai took a seat at the table, gaze roaming around the kitchen. The rest of the house was so strange it was easy to forget, but the normalcy of the kitchen reminded him that it had been over ten years since he'd spent anything longer than a few hours in an actual _home_.

It suddenly hit him, how out of place he felt. He sighed and turned to watch Chuuya, smiling to himself as he realised the Sorcerer was still wearing Dazai's coat. It suited him, complemented the loose purple shirt and high waisted black trousers he wore. The combat boots really kind of ruined the whole 'refined and regal' look, though.

His eyes traced over the feathers in Chuuya's hair, the almost excessive amount of bracelets and necklaces. He stared down at his own wrists, the bandages peeking out from under the sweater he'd chosen that morning. Chuuya hadn't commented on the bandages, not yet. Dazai supposed he was just trying to be polite.

Well. Even if he felt out of place here, at least he didn't look it. His bandages and messy hair and hollow eyes were just as strange as every other part of this house.

He found himself smiling, couldn't tell if it was out of genuine amusement or at the strange irony of it all. Instead of trying to figure it out he turned to look at Chuuya again, who was almost done making the sandwiches.

"So tell me oh great Sorcerer, why exactly is lunch so important?"

Dazai would soon regret asking that question because it turned out Chuuya was _very _passionate about Dazai eating three meals a day and was more than happy to go on a half hour long speil explaining why. Dazai was thoroughly bored by the end of it but the way Chuuya's eyes lit up and he got all animated when he talked about nutrients and vitamins _almost_ made that boredom worth it.

Almost. Except Chuuya had put olives in his sandwich and Dazai was not impressed.

"Chuuya mentioned chicken which is fine and lettuce which is fine and barbecue sauce which is _very_ fine, but you never said anything about olives! They're gross!"

The Sorcerer in question only shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich and humming appreciatively, seemingly not caring for Dazai's struggles. Dazai stared down at his own sandwich in disgust and Chuuya finally spoke up, sounding entirely too amused. "You know you can just pick them out, yeah? There aren't too many in there."

"Can't you just, I don't know, magic them out?" Dazai gestured dramatically at the half chewed olive that was sat on the side of his plate, which he had spat out as soon as he'd realised he was eating devil food. Vegetables were bad enough, olives were _intolerable_.

Chuuya just shook his head, once again clearly unbothered by Dazai's issues. "That's not how magic works. And even if it was, you could probably do with the extra vitamins. Maybe then you wouldn't be so damn pale."

"Rude." Dazai pouted, but opened up his sandwich and started picking out the olives one by one, flicking each one onto the table because fuck Chuuya for putting olives in a perfectly good sandwich.

If he couldn't kill the Sorcerer he'd just have to annoy him into letting him go, back into a world of olive free sandwiches and -Dazai wrinkled his nose in displeasure at the thought- Mori. Okay, so maybe he wasn't _too_ desperate to be let go.

Not that he'd ever tell Chuuya that.

* * *

In our next chapter, 'I Never Said I Was a Good Man':

_Dazai hated the inexplicably soft look on Chuuya's face. He didn't understand it, didn't understand the pity that Chuuya's expression was transmitting because why would anyone direct pity towards him? He was a feared killer. He neither needed nor deserved the pity of others._

"_Is that what Mori taught you? That you could never live a normal life?"_

_He froze._

* * *

Warnings for this chapter: very brief mention of non consensual medical procedures/human experimentation, and even briefer mention of suicide. Character briefly witnesses the aftermath, not the event.

Am I getting Chuuya's characterisation right? Who knows. Definitely not me.


	4. 4: I Never Said I Was a Good Man

Four: I Never Said I Was a Good Man

* * *

"Why aren't any of Chuuya's paintings hung up on the walls? You've got so many in kinda weird places. Wouldn't it be easier to just hang them up?"

They'd spent the day in the library. Chuuya was floating about five feet above the carpeted floor, hovering cross legged next to one of the nearby bookshelves. He was surrounded by pieces of note paper and a few open books that were also all floating in the space around Chuuya. Dazai hadn't asked about this particular phenomenon yet but it was high on his 'Weird Shit to Ask the Sorcerer About' list.

But for now, paintings. Dazai had spent a good seven hours in total wandering about the house so far and he hadn't missed how not one of Chuuya's framed paintings were actually hung on the walls. They were always propped on some drawers or resting against cabinets or other objects of the solid variety.

"Seriously? Out of all the things to ask about you go for paintings?" Dazai nodded in happy confirmation, although he hadn't looked up at Chuuya even when asking his question. His eyes were glued to one of the cheesy romance novels he'd found in the expansive library. He wasn't usually interested in romance novels unless they were of the tragic kind but this one was about a magician. When he'd spotted it on the shelves he'd felt obligated to at least skim it, if only for the irony.

Dazai did however look up in surprise as with a gentle tug from some invisible force the novel was pulled up and out of his hands, floating across the room to Chuuya. Dazai scowled at the incredibly judgemental and far too amused look he received as Chuuya saw what he was reading "Seriously, 'The Sorcerer's Bride'? Are you trying to tell me something, pet?"

Dazai was absolutely not blushing. The red he could feel burning cheeks was just the heat of the roaring fireplace, which the living wooden walls were somehow immune to. That was all.

"Of course not!" Dazai sat up on the sofa he'd been sprawled over, staring at Chuuya indignantly. "If I was going to marry a man it most certainly wouldn't be one shorter than me!" He pouted as Chuuya didn't snap at the bait, only raised a questioning eyebrow instead.

"So you _would_ marry a man?"

Just a second of hesitation as his mind raced, not long enough to break the momentum of their conversation but he knew that Chuuya would still notice the pause. This wasn't something Dazai usually talked about, but Chuuya's question hadn't seemed at all damning, only curious..

"I'll marry whomever I please! It's called being progressive Chuuya, keep up~"

"Wha-? I wasn't-" Flustered. Sputtering. The desired reaction. "I - Ugh, whatever. You wanted to know about my paintings, yeah?"

"I don't give a shit about your paintings." The moment of outrage on Chuuya's face was well worth the lie "I just want to know why you don't hang any of them up."

To Dazai's surprise Chuuya didn't rattle off a quick answer but instead descended back down to the floor, his notes stacking themselves on the coffee table and the books flying back to their places on the rows of bookshelves. Dazai watched as Chuuya took a seat on the red beanbag by the fireplace, somehow managing to make sinking into a fabric bag full of polystyrene beads look graceful.

"I don't usually tell people this so once I tell you I'm definitely not going to be able to let you go, ever. Not that I was planning to."

Dazai knew the warning was supposed to be something he took seriously but in reality it was just succeeding in amplifying his curiosity. He'd expected a simple explanation to his question but now it seemed as though he'd stumbled across something deeper. Chuuya seemed to take his silence as a confirmation and sighed, picking up a glass full of wine that Dazai was absolutely certain hadn't been in the room before.

"Okay so you already know how the house is kind of alive, yeah?" Dazai nodded, flopping back on the sofa and staring up at the ceiling as he waited for Chuuya to start explaining. The man snorted but didn't comment on Dazai's new position, instead continuing to talk. "I'm connected to this place. Damage to the walls or any living part of it affects me. If I were to hammer nails into the walls to hang the paintings, it would.. Well it wouldn't _hurt_ per say, but it'd be uncomfortable."

Dazai didn't respond at first, just continued to stare at the ceiling. It was beautifully patterned, branches and vines twisting into elegant swirls and shapes. Dazai wondered if Chuuya had commanded the house to make them or if the house had done it itself.

"You should let me go." Dazai could feel the sharpness of Chuuya's gaze cutting into him but he didn't sit up, didn't even turn his head to meet the Sorcerer's eyes. There wasn't any point.

"What?" Chuuya didn't raise his voice but Dazai clearly heard the edge of brewing rage. If he didn't explain himself properly Chuuya would get mad. That was unfortunate because Dazai found he had no actual reasons for Chuuya to let him leave. Despite how enormous this house was he'd found nothing at all to use as leverage or blackmail. It was infuriating.

"I just think you should." That sounded lame but he kept talking regardless. "You'll have to let me outside at _some_ point, even if its just to let me get that vitamin sun thing or something. Then I'll go back to Mori. The quicker I go back the less mad he'll be. At both of us."

Dazai frowned up at Chuuya as the man floated over him. He was staring down at him, hovering barely more than twenty centimetres above him. Dazai didn't like it. He felt trapped but forced a smile onto his face instead of showing it. Though judging from the way Chuuya was scowling down at him Dazai supposed ther smile had just made him angry.

"You really don't get it, do you? I have powers you couldn't even imagine and you are _mine_. I could let you out for Vitamin D and take away your free will the whole time you're out there. Don't test me, _pet_."

Dazai was very scared at that prospect. This wasn't a threat he could just brush away. Chuuya had already proved that Dazai stood no chance against him in a fight and he was beginning to expect the Sorcerer was a lot wiser than he'd let on.

However, Dazai had spent such a long time perfecting his mask of indifference that he was quite sure the fear that gripped him didn't show on his face, not even for a second. Instead his smile widened as he stared up at Chuuya, eyes betraying nothing.

"So the same guy that rescues hopeless experiments is going to take away my free will? I don't think Chuuya could do it~"

If looks could kill Dazai would very much be dead. After a few seconds of heated glaring that was only met with an empty smile Chuuya huffed and floated off, back to his beanbag. He fell into it with a familiarity that suggested he frequently used it as a landing spot. Dazai sat up on the couch, crossing his arms across his chest and staring at Chuuya.

Chuuya looked away after about twenty seconds, picking up his glass of wine again. "Whatever. If you start getting bratty with me I _will_ punish you." The threat wasn't quite empty but it didn't make Dazai particularly worried, either. "Why are you so desperate to go back to that fucker Mori, anyway? He's an ass."

Dazai faltered at that. He was very glad that Chuuya was too distracted sipping at his wine and staring into the roaring fireplace to notice as Dazai's mask fractured. Just for a second and then he was all fake smiles again. It was fine. A second wouldn't have been long enough for Chuuya to notice.

A second would have been enough for Mori.

"I'm a terrible person to live with." He inisited, deciding to ignore Chuuya's question entirely. "I'm annoying and rude and I scare people. You really don't want me staying here." Dazai frowned as Chuuya did not respond, only turned and stared at him like he'd grown two heads. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Chuuya just shook his head and took a long drink of his wine, the glass almost empty by now. Dazai wondered absently that perhaps Chuuya had a minor drinking problem. That was something he could probably use against him. Then Chuuya cleared his throat and set the wine glass down on the coffee table. Without further warning Dazai found himself leveled with an frighteningly intense gaze. It gave him the distinct impression that Chuuya was staring right through him.

"Mori took you in when you were say, fourteen?" Then Chuuya shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. "No, twelve's more his type. So Mori took you in and then he realised how _clever_ you were, how _useful_, so he made you a part of the Port Mafia. Used you just like the others. You hate him, I imagine. But the Mafia is your entire life so you feel like you _have_ to go back. That's it. Oh it is, isn't it?"

Chuuya had fractured his mask before and it had been recoverable but now it felt as though the whole carefully constructed facade was gone. Not even broken - just straight up removed, like Chuuya had ripped back all of Dazai's painstakingly built layers without even trying.

He was blank for several painful moments. How did someone even go about reacting to that, to having their life's story known by someone who was as good as a stranger?

"I knew about the experiments."

Dazai watched as Chuuya's eyes narrowed, his own face impassive. Blank now that the constructed emotions were gone. The words had come without much thought but Dazai didn't regret them. He'd been mulling this plan over, nursing the idea of it ever since he'd found the room with the corpses. It would be effective. It _had_ to be effective. "You forget, before I was your dog I was Mori's. So I knew. Of course I did."

Chuuya's whole face didn't twist with rage like Dazai had been expecting but there _was_ anger there. It was in his eyes mostly, his posture too. Barely contained, ready to burst out. "Why didn't you do anything?" The anger was in Chuuya's voice as well "Those people were Port Mafia, just like you!"

He'd known that too, how over seventy percent of Mori's test subjects were Port Mafia members. Dazai sneered at the outraged words, rose to his feet and stalked right up to Chuuya's beanbag so he could stare down at him.

"I never said I was a good man, Chuuya. You jumped to that conclusion all by yourself."

"It won't work." Dazai watched warily as Chuuya stood, the anger seemingly gone in a second. Why? What had changed? Chuuya took a purposeful step forwards and Dazai found himself stepping back in response. "I know what you're planning, Dazai. Make me hate you so much I kick you out, yeah? Sorry, but I'd have to kill you first."

Dazai glared. Finally after several minutes of numbness he'd reached his own anger. He just didn't _understand_. Why would Chuuya want someone like him around? He wasn't useful here, there was nothing to gain by having him stay.

"Why wont you just let me _go_?" He cringed at his own voice, a mix of frustration and horribly sincere desperation "I won't be of any help to you here! My skill set is suited to missions and that's _it_, I have nothing to give you. I don't fit in, not in - not in _homes_. I'll just be a bother!"

Dazai _hated_ the inexplicably soft look that Chuuya's face got then. He didn't understand it, didn't understand the pity that Chuuya's expression was transmitting because why would _anyone _direct pity at him? He was a feared killer. He neither needed nor deserved _pity_.

"Is that what Mori taught you? That you could never live a normal life?"

Dazai froze. Chuuya's voice was so gentle, so horribly _understanding_ and Dazai hated that too. His uncertainty was replaced with rage and he glared death at Chuuya, drawing himself up to his full height. "How _dare_ you, I-"

Chuuya didn't even hesitate to cut him off. "You." He started, taking a step closer to Dazai. The intensity to his eyes was so extreme that Dazai found himself stepping back. "You are a product of your surroundings. I _know_ what Mori's like. He's shaped you. I can give you back the freedom he stole from you, whether you realise he did or not."

Dazai didn't know what to say. Rational thoughts escaped him. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before, nobody would have dared to. So he settled for the only response his scrambled brain could come up with as he stormed off towards the door.

"_Fuck you_."

Chuuya let him go.

* * *

He'd pondered it before, but now Dazai decidedly hated being able to feel.

On the occasions that they'd met up and gotten really _really_ drunk, Odasaku had talked to him about feelings. He'd used words and language that had made it all sound so beautiful, that had left Dazai thinking that maybe, _maybe_ emotions were worth having.

Then Oda had gone off to die and Dazai had been forced to sit with Mori and drink tea as though the only good thing in his world wasn't at that very moment bleeding out, alone.

Mori hadn't even let him go to the funeral. Dazai had sworn never to let himself truly feel again.

Now.. now he felt the heat of tears, the grief and anger and helplessness that fuelled them. He felt the emotions and he allowed them to twist up his face in anger, sadness. There was no one around to see, no mask he had to uphold. Letting the anger crash over him for the first time in _years_ he cried out and kicked at the wall, remembering what Chuuya had told him earlier, before everything had gone to shit because Chuuya just _had_ to bring up Mori.

'_Damage to the walls or any living part of it affects me'_, Chuuya had said. Dazai grinned, a twisted, bitter thing as he kicked out at the wall again, hard enough that his foot throbbed with it. "Good. I hope that hurt, stupid wizard."

* * *

Dazai stepped out of the walk in closet with a sigh, staring down at the jar of weird shiny dust he'd 'accidentally' dropped on the floor. As soon as he'd done it he had remembered that the house was effectively self cleaning, meaning that he hadn't actually managed to inconvenience Chuuya at all.

What a shame.

Closing the door behind him Dazai frowned at the hallway. There had been two doors next to the closet before he'd entered but they weren't there anymore. With a groan of frustration he turned and started walking down the hallway, wondering just how big this house really was. The changing hallways were an uncomfortable reminder that even if he seriously tried to escape, he had no idea if there was an exit aside from Chuuya's teleportation.

That thought made him feel claustrophobic all over again, so he dutifully ignored it.

He turned the corner, only to grimace as he was met with another empty hallway. No doors, just a few meters of corridor with a left turn at the end. As he turned the corner only to be once again met with an empty corridor, Dazai felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs all at once.

_Run._

The panic overwhelmed him and he set off at a sprint, throwing himself round corner after corner. He was hyperventilating but he didnt _care_, dread squeezing at his heart in an ice cold grip as he turned the corner a fifth time, only to be met with the same empty corridor.

He barely registered the tears that slid down his cheeks, continuing his desperate dead sprint through the same looping corridor. Maybe if he went fast enough it would change, would revert back to an actual hallway, maybe-

He yelped as he tripped, _something_ catching his foot and sending him lurching forwards. He landed hard on the carpet, breaths coming in strangled, painful gasps. His hands were bleeding where he'd thrown them out to catch himself and he could feel the heat of carpet burn on his knees, even through the trousers.

Dazai crawled over to the wall and pressed back against it, wrapping his arms around himself as though that could somehow stop the house. His vision was tunneling and he was all of a sudden acutely aware of what Chuuya had told him yesterday, about how he was lucky that the house hadn't killed him, how it tended to kill intruders in variously gruesome ways.

God, he was going to be sick. He could feel his whole body shaking violently and he was _freezing_ but also sweating through his jumper. He didn't care, he just wanted _out_. Out of this hallway, out of this place and out of the Port Mafia.

He gasped as a hand landed on his shoulder, instinctively flinching away. But then the hand turned into an arm that's wrapping around him, drawing him close to a warm body and Dazai couldn't help but sob in relief, a messy ugly sound that he doesn't think he's ever made in front of another person before.

"_Stop it._" Chuuya hissed at the house and Dazai could only stare in wonder and horror as it changed before his eyes. Doors returned and the corridor lengthened, no longer an endless left turn leading to nothing but another empty hallway.

Dazai had had enough. Enough of Chuuya, enough of magical houses fucking with him. Enough of _emotions_.

He shuts down.

* * *

"You made her angry."

Dazai nodded numbly, supposing that made sense. He wouldn't really like it if someone kicked him twice and then threw a jar of dust over him, either.

"How does it work, then?" Dazai asked partly of curiosity but mostly because it seemed like the right thing to say. He was exhausted after what could only be described as a panic attack. He just wanted to sleep. He was lying in bed and everything. He could just close his eyes and…

"She feeds off my energy, uses it to expand and shift about. I can feel the layout of the house, in a way. I knew she was messing with you when she cut off the hallway into a loop. I didn't… You should get some sleep, Dazai."

That made Dazai sigh because _of course_ Chuuya could tell he was tired despite his _years_ of practise at hiding exhaustion. He nodded wearily, falling back against the pillows and glancing at Chuuya. The Sorcerer was perched on the edge of the bed and he looked far more concerned for Dazai's wellbeing than anyone had any right to be.

"Yeah. Goodnight."

He watched Chuuya go, sighed again as the door closed with a soft click. Chuuya had found him and picked him up and teleported him to his room and Dazai really didn't know what to think anymore. He didn't want to go back to Mori, of course he didn't. That didn't change that the only life he knew was one in the Port Mafia. He didn't know how to _live_ anywhere else.

Odasaku would probably say that Dazai hadn't exactly been 'living' in the Port Mafia either. Dazai scoffed at the very thought because yes, that was definitely the kind of motherly thing Oda would tell him.

He stared up at the ceiling and - feeling very, very stupid - begun to speak.

"Hey, so.. I'm not Chuuya's biggest fan right now but you didn't really do anything wrong. So if you're listening, uh.. I'm sorry I kicked you. I'll try to be more respectful so please don't trap me in anymore hallways? Thank you."

Dazai rolled over onto his side as soon as he was finished, reaching out and turning off the bedside lamp. He felt ridiculous. There was no point in talking to a house. Even if it was alive it probably didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

He ignored how the atmosphere of the room seemed almost.. Friendlier now, less prickly, because that was definitely his imagination. Dazai shut his eyes, putting the house to the back of his mind and instead allowing himself to focus on the softness of the pillow, the sheets. In minutes he was asleep.

* * *

_In our next chapter, 'So You Were Partners?' :_

_"Dazai, you slept for six hours!" The call woke him and Dazai groaned in response, not sitting up. Instead he rolled over in bed, face hidden in the pillow. The sheets were so very soft and the duvet comfortably warm, its weight almost like an embrace. He didn't want to move. For once he felt the lulling call of sleep tug at the edges of his mind and he welcomed it, more than happy to go back to sleep. Not even the sound of the door opening and Chuuya stepping in was enough to make him so much as raise his head._

_"I brought you breakfa- what the fuck?"_

* * *

Are the chapters too long? Short? I generally write chapters in the mid 3ks in word count, but I know I prefer to read 5-7ks. So if you guys say you want longer chapters I could probably give that a go?


	5. 5: So You Were Partners?

Five: So You Were Partners?

* * *

"Dazai, you've slept for seven hours!" The call was accompanied by a knock on the door and Dazai woke with a groan, not responding. Instead he rolled over in bed, hiding his face in the softness of the pillow. The sheets were so very _warm_ and the duvet comfortably firm, its weight almost like an embrace. Dazai didn't want to move, not at all. For once he felt the lulling call of sleep tug at the edges of his mind and he welcomed it, more than happy to go back to sleep. Another few hours wouldn't hurt. Not even the click of the door opening or the sound of Chuuya stepping into the room was enough to make Dazai move.

"I brought you breakfa- what the fuck?"

Dazai reluctantly peeked an eye open at that, before pushing himself up in the bed as he finally noticed the state of the room. He stared in shock, mouth agape. After several seconds of stunned silence Dazai turned his head to meet Chuuya's eyes, but the Sorcerer looked just as surprised as Dazai.

For starters, the bed had doubled in size. The duvet was thicker, the pillows plusher and now that Dazai thought about it he was pretty sure the mattress had changed, too. It had been comfortable if a little firm before but now sitting on it felt as though his body was imprinting itself into what could only be memory foam.

The walls were now blue, a smooth coat of paint replacing the off-white slightly cracked plaster from before. Even as his eyes narrowed in suspicion, Dazai reasoned to himself that the new colour had to be a coincidence. Blue was his favourite colour but he'd never actually shared that with anyone but Oda. There was no way the walls turning blue was anything other than luck. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment before gazing out at the room again.

There were plants everywhere. Vines twisted out across the ceiling and Dazai had no idea if they were supposed to be decorative, but even if they weren't he liked them. They gave the room character. There was even more furniture than there had been before, to the point the room was on the edge of overcrowded.

Dazai was perplexed. He'd usually assume this was Chuuya's doing, but Chuuya had seemed just as taken aback by the change. Dazai frowned at the walls in confusion, then looked over at Chuuya as the man started laughing, patting one of the walls affectionately. Dazai grimaced at the unusual sight, finding Chuuya's interactions with the house strange despite how the house was alive.

"She- the house likes you, Dazai. _A lot_. What the hell did you do?"

Dazai shrugged at that, staring around the room again. It was strange that a change this big hadn't woken him up. This looked like an entirely new room compared to the one he remembered falling asleep in. "I'm not quite sure." He murmured, even as he thought back on how he'd talked to the house last night. A one sided conversation that he'd been sure was an entirely pointless venture.

Now… now he was a lot less sure.

"Well whatever you did, here's some pancakes. You must be hungry."

Dazai went to shake his head but paused as he realised that he was in fact very hungry. It must have been yesterday's panic attack. So instead he nodded and watched as Chuuya smiled at him, placing a tray with a plate of pancakes and chocolate spread on the bed.

"Thanks."

Chuuya grinned, and Dazai realised it was the first time he'd ever properly thanked the man for anything. "No problem. I'll be in the kitchen for a few hours if you need me - the house will probably show you the way if you ask her."

He found himself tensing a little at the idea of wandering the house alone after yesterday but nodded regardless, offering a small smile so Chuuya didn't notice his uncertainty. It was nothing compared to the fake, perfected smiles Dazai usually displayed to the world, but for some reason the simple curve of his lips made Chuuya's eyes light up as though Dazai had just told him miracles were possible.

Dazai's smile widened in amusement at his own analogy. Chuuya was a Sorcerer. Miracles _were_ possible.

"Okay. I'll see you there, later."

Chuuya nodded and left without further ado, leaving Dazai to his pancakes. Dazai sighed, letting his shoulders slump as he stared down at the plate then out at the walls, unable to shake the feeling that he wasn't alone. The presence of the house was so much more obvious now, as though its energy had gone from brittle and off-putting to washing over him in gentle, warming waves.

"I'd offer you a pancake, but I doubt you can eat." Talking to the walls still felt silly but at least now he knew that the house could actually hear him, even if it didn't respond. With a sigh Dazai cut a slice out of one of the pancakes, popping it in his mouth and chewing slowly before smiling to himself, cutting himself a second piece.

"They're good." He informed the walls, before taking another bite.

* * *

Chuuya had no idea what was happening and that was a _very_ rare occurrence.

The house had never been so blatantly _alive_ around strangers before. Yet here it was, hallways shifting before Dazai's very eyes to take them both directly to the library. Dazai stared at the door for a moment as it swung open, that adorably confused look on his face before he murmured a soft "Thank you" to the walls and slipped through the doorway.

Chuuya sighed, because after spending so very long attuned with the house he could feel the silent question; '_why don't you ever say thank you, Chuuya?_'

Chuuya rolled his eyes and stepped forwards, fully prepared to enter his library without a word but he was stopped short as vines shot out across the doorway, blocking his entrance. Another reached down from the ceiling and whacked him on the back of his head and he glared, rubbing the sore spot. That would've knocked his hat off if he hadn't charmed it to stay in place.

"Fine!" He snapped at the air and the vines withdrew. Chuuya huffed, glaring up at the ceiling. "Thank you! Happy now Kouyou?" The sudden pleasant atmosphere in the hallway confirmed that yes, the house was indeed happy. Chuuya sighed and shook his head before heading into the library, closing the door softly behind him.

He hadn't even planned on spending the morning here but Dazai had seemed desperate to finish that trashy romance novel he'd started reading. Chuuya had agreed to accompany him because he didn't _really_ have anything better to be doing today and -although he admitted this to himself rather reluctantly- Dazai's presence did bring a nice atmosphere to the room. Chuuya found he quite liked to spend time around him, even if it was a little strange to have someone else in his home.

As Chuuya walked over to the bookshelf he saw that Dazai was already sprawled out on the couch, eyes flicking across the pages of his novel at an impressive speed. Smiling absently to himself Chuuya grabbed a book and then flopped into his beanbag by the empty fireplace, floating his notes over from the coffee table and starting to flick through them.

He had an idea. Ever since Dazai had arrived he'd been wondering about the massive amount of dark magic brimming inside him. Chuuya found himself wanting to test it, to see what it was capable of and if he could maybe use it somehow. If Dazai truly wasn't a Mage -and that was looking increasingly likely- then he wouldn't have any idea how to access that power himself.

Maybe he could teach him..? Chuuya shook his head, dismissing the idea as quickly as it came. The thought was laughable. He'd _never_ taken on an apprentice, he certainly wasn't about to break that tradition and _especially_ not for someone so mentally unstable. Apprentices were a commitment of decades and there were all kinds of unique risks Dazai could pose. It wasn't like Chuuya couldn't handle them, it was more that he really couldn't be bothered to.

He glanced sidelong at Dazai, who seemed to be absorbed in his novel and completely oblivious to the fact that this very second Chuuya was mulling over his future for him. Typical.

"Dazai?" He called out after a few more minutes of deliberation, a hum of acknowledgment the only answer he received. Chuuya sighed because that was as annoying as it was endearing, flopping back on the beanbag and staring up at the ceiling. He needed a drink.

"Have you ever thought about what you'd do if.. Well, let's say the Port Mafia stopped existing or something. You have a clean slate, no one's out to get you."

Chuuya deliberately spoke in hypotheticals but he knew full well that his true meaning wouldn't escape Dazai for a second. He lifted his head with a soft groan and as expected Dazai was staring at him, expression a mix of thoughtful suspicion.

"Well… I've always thought travelling could be fun. Maybe."

Chuuya blinked at him in surprise. He'd half been expected a mocking response, or perhaps no answer at all. "Yeah?"

Dazai nodded. "Yes. Yokohama is nice but I think I'd like to see not-cities first."

"First?" Dazai's only response to that was a shrug that conveyed clearly enough that Dazai would not be elaborating. Chuuya nodded pensively, righting himself on the beanbag and crossing his legs, resting his chin in his palm as he thought things over.

"Maybe.. Maybe if you stay here and you're _good_, like not trying to run away and shit. Then _maybe_ I could take you to go see a few places. Where would you want to go anyway?"

"Maui island in Hawaii, Archipelago in Stockholm and Goshogawara, in the Aomori prefecture." Chuuya raised an eyebrow. Dazai must have been more passionate about this whole travelling idea than he was letting on because that list had been rattled out with absolutely no hesitation or time for thought.

"Hawaii I get and the Archipelago is absolutely as beautiful as they say it is so I can definitely recommend that. Why Goshogawara, though? It's kind of.. Cold there?"

Dazai's face lost its smile and he turned to stare into the empty fireplace. Chuuya realised he'd hit on something sensitive. A few moments of quiet passed as Dazai presumably thought over his reasons for wanting to go to Goshogawara of all places. But then he spoke, turning his head and meeting Chuuya's eyes again. "I was born there. Well, it was called Kanagi at the time. The mansion is still there, though."

Chuuya frowned at that "Your family home?"

Dazai nodded with a slight grimace that had Chuuya frowning. "Yep. Last time I checked Mori was using it as a centre for some large scale drug trades. He's kept it in good condition though, I could probably go visit. I never have. I just feel like I... should."

"That's perfectly reasonable." Chuuya still visited places from his childhood from time to time, or at least what was left of them. It was in equal parts sad and fascinating to see how the land changed. "Do you.. You know, remember much from your childhood?"

Dazai shook his head "No. None of it. Mori had to tell me where I lived, my parent's names, all of it. I cross referenced to make sure he was telling the truth, of course. I've just forgotten everything from before I was.. thirteen, I suppose? It's normal."

Chuuya nodded in agreement even as his mind raced furiously, attempting to piece it all together. Dazai had given him another part of the puzzle without even realising it and Chuuya was trying desperately to work out where that piece fit in the bigger picture he was starting to form.

So even as he nodded in casual agreement, Chuuya knew that something was wrong. No matter how out of touch Chuuya sometimes felt he was with society, he was painfully aware that whatever Dazai's apparent memory loss was, it was most certainly _not_ normal.

* * *

"So how'd you guess my life like that earlier?"

Chuuya raised an eyebrow as Dazai talked around a mouthful but didn't scold him. He was just counting himself lucky that Dazai had felt hungry enough for lunch today - despite Chuuya's best efforts in trying to make him nice sandwiches, before now Dazai had only ever nibbled at them with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Chuuya that Dazai didn't have a good relationship with food, or much experience in.. well, normal person things. Chuuya planned to change that even if it took years.

"When you've been around this long you start to pick up on things a little easier. Mori is a predictable creature."

Dazai squinted at him from across the table "No way, we're absolutely the same age! We've got to be, you're shorter than me!"

Chuuya only raised an eyebrow at Dazai's insistance, sitting back in his chair and taking a large bite of his own sandwich. Egg mayonnaise and watercress, handpicked from his favourite stream in the south of Wales. Maybe he'd take Dazai there one day. Maybe not.

"I suppose it helped that I did also know a friend of yours. Oda Sakunosuke. Although I was never quite sure if that was his real name or not."

"It was." Chuuya watched Dazai closely. He'd placed his sandwich back on his plate, was staring down at the chipped stoneware. It was moments like these that made Dazai look so small, so _lost_. These little moments were also what had convinced Chuuya to reverse what Mori had done to the best of his ability. "You... knew Odasaku?"

Chuuya nodded, taking another bite of his sandwich before placing it down, starting to realise that this was a sensitive topic that would require his full attention. "Yes. He.. well, he found out about the experiments Mori was doing. He fed me information, even helped me with a few of the rescues."

Dazai frowned. "That makes sense, I guess." Chuuya could see the sadness in his eyes, hear it in his voice. It was so much better than the emptiness, the blank expressions. Chuuya considered, not allowing his expression to betray how his mind was wandering. At least Dazai knew he was allowed to be sad. He'd shown anger yesterday, too. That was a start.

"What makes sense?" His prompting was gentle but still Dazai shuddered, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper. Chuuya doubted he even realised he was doing it. A nervous habit, perhaps.

"Mori let Oda die. He wouldn't let me go to save him, he- he made me sit and drink tea with him instead. I always wondered why he was so.. Involved with Oda's actions. He probably knew that he was stealing the experiments."

Chuuya nodded at that "He definitely knew. Knows I'm still doing it, too."

He watched as Dazai picked up his sandwich, took another bite and chewed slowly, thoughtfully. Then he looked up at Chuuya, eyebrows furrowing in question. "How does this relate to me, though?"

"Oh. Well, while we worked Odasaku and I would trade stories. I'd talk about magic and faraway lands and Oda.. well, he'd talk about those kids he adopted. He'd also talk about you." Chuuya watched the slight hint of colour that reached Dazai's cheeks, curious.

It would make sense that Dazai had perhaps seen the man as a brother or father figure. Oda had certainly talked about Dazai like he was a distant son, a lost child - but never a hopeless one. Odasaku had never given up on Dazai or declared him a lost cause. Chuuya had always respected that.

The memories of Odasaku had Chuuya smiling. They were fond memories, even though the work they'd been doing had been more than unpleasant. "I didn't realise you were the person he'd been talking about until yesterday. He.. really wanted the best for you, Dazai. I think he'd have been happy if you left the Port Mafia, don't you?"

Dazai opened his mouth to argue but then seemed to deflate all at once, slumping down into his seat with a slight pout pulling at his lips. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like Oda."

Chuuya smiled to himself and picked up his sandwich again, continuing to eat. Dazai followed suit and they ate together quietly until after a few minutes Dazai straightened suddenly, dropping his sandwich back onto his plate and staring at Chuuya, a glimmer in his eyes.

"Hey I just remembered, three years ago I was visiting Oda's grave and some weirdo came along and told me that sitting on gravestones would get the guardian of the graves or whatever to come after me, so I left… was that you?"

A few moments of deliberation and then Chuuya nodded slowly, trying to work out the dates in his head "Yeah, it must have been.. What, February?"

Dazai shook his head. "June." then he frowned, staring at Chuuya "You didn't.. Look like you, though. You still had the same stupid cloak on but you were way older."

Chuuya huffed, shooting Dazai a half hearted glare and standing up. He took his now empty plate over to the sink. "I'll have you know that this cloak is made from the _exceedingly_ rare Hetha Bloom flesh. If you haven't noticed it changes colour depending on the time of day and that-" He turned to glare at Dazai again "Is _very_ cool. Besides, if you must know, I have various disguises for when I go into Yokohama."

It was obvious that Dazai was holding back laughter at Chuuya's little outburst, nodding his head in mock agreement. Chuuya spun around with with a sigh and a swish of his _very nice_ cloak, starting the process of making tea. Dazai had already told him that he didn't like tea and Chuuya found himself perfectly content with' forgetting'.

He worked in silence, not allowing himself to get distracted by the sharp eyes he could feel following his every movement. Dazai wasn't even trying to be subtle. After a few minutes of quiet Chuuya picked up on the slight tension emanating from him; Dazai was building himself up to ask a question. Clearly it was something important.

Chuuya let out a slow breath, forcing his own shoulders to relax. He was getting too tense, their fight yesterday had riled him, aggravated his already unstable magic. He needed to let it out, exhaust the restless energy, maybe use -

"So what was Mori trying to achieve with those experiments?"

Chuuya stilled, hand hovering over the pot of now boiling water, still clutching at a handful of strongly flavoured petals. Well, he certainly hadn't been expecting _that_, although he supposed it was a reasonable question. With a sigh he dropped the petals in the pot, quickly gave the water a stir and then put the lid on, turning down the heat. He then turned to face Dazai, frowning at the blankness that was back on his face. Dazai's eyes could look so horribly empty when he wasn't forcing emotions onto his face. For a moment Chuuya considered if perhaps letting Dazai keep his facades would be better.

But no. Dazai couldn't just ignore his problems. He'd end up ignoring them until he died. Chuuya was quite sure that's not what Odasaku would have wanted.

"So you're ready to talk about Mori, then?"

A grimace that disappeared in seconds, followed by a deceptively nonchalant shrug. Chuuya missed the light hearted banter of minutes ago, even if Dazai had insulted his cloak. He frowned at the thought. That had been _quite _rude. Chuuya loved his cloak. It was currently a blue-grey tinted deep red, informing him that it was late morning in the outside world.

Then Dazai spoke, now staring down at the table, expressionless. "I'm not sure. It doesn't matter. Even if I'm not ready, it's information I'd quite like to know before Mori kills you."

Now that certainly gave Chuuya reason to pause. "I.. excuse me?"

Dazai shrugged again, although his eyes looked a little sharper now. Not quite an emotion but not quite that soulless apathy either. "If you're taking his experiments Mori's going to have you killed, plain and simple. You basically kidnapped me, too. All things considered I think he'd quite like his assassin back."

Chuuya sighed. Dazai was so very smart, but nobody had clued him in to the bigger picture. Chuuya didn't want to be the one to do it -he was sure Oda would do a much better job if he was here- but he supposed there wasn't much of a choice left to him, not now.

"Dazai.. There's something I suppose you should know about Mori." Chuuya reclaimed his seat at the table, looking at Dazai, watching carefully for further signs of emotion. "He's a Warlock. We used to work together. I led the Port Mafia beside him for years, right up until he started experimenting on our own men. That's when I left."

Chuuya offered a sympathetic half smile as he saw just how stunned Dazai seemed by the revelation. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise. He was completely caught off guard. That was never a very nice feeling, but Chuuya still couldn't think of any other way he could have delivered the news. Dazai stared at him with that horribly vulnerable look on his face before directing his gaze down at the table once more, as though seeing their surroundings was simply too much for him right now.

A few moments of silence stretched between them and Chuuya was surprised at just how broken Dazai sounded when he did finally speak. "So you were partners?" He asked, and even though he couldn't see Dazai's eyes, Chuuya could hear the rough hitch of tears in his voice. He hadn't been expecting that. Did the boy perhaps truly care for Mori? Chuuya hadn't thought it possible for anyone to so much as _like_ that snake of a man.

"Partners… I suppose." Chuuya nodded thoughtfully, rolling the word over in his mind. 'Partners'. It sounded vile. "There was no trust there, nothing more than a desire to feed off of each other's power and ambition. To make something out of it."

Dazai didn't respond to that, and Chuuya watched as he folded his arms on the table, hiding his face in his own sleeves. A moment later and Chuuya heard a soft "I think I've figured it out." mumbled into Dazai's arms. Chuuya felt his face soften at that, a sad smile tugging at his lips. That would certainly explain why Dazai had sounded so upset.

"Ah. You're smarter than I thought, pet. Yeah. Mori knew exactly what he was putting you up against when he sent you to me. You were never supposed to kill me."

Dazai didn't raise his head from his cocoon of sleeves and Chuuya made a mental note to add some ginger to the tea once this conversation was done. It'd help to settle Dazai's nerves.

"Then what..?"

Chuuya shook his head, even as he knew Dazai couldn't see it. He'd been wondering this himself, and it frustrated him that he didn't yet have an answer. "I'm not sure. But I'm certain I'll figure it out. When I do, I'll let you know."

He smiled as Dazai raised his head a little, eyes peeking out from behind the sleeves. Buying him jumpers had been a good move. "Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

A week passed. Chuuya was no closer to figuring out why Mori had sent his top assassin. Whatever the reason was, it was obviously more valuable to Mori than the years he'd spent raising and training and making an asset out of Dazai. Mori had had Dazai since the boy was twelve, so that was a decade just thrown away.

That wasn't like Mori. Whatever the man's motivations were for practically handing him Dazai on a silver platter, Chuuya was certain that he'd find himself in some kind of peril if he couldn't put a stop in Mori's plans soon. How troublesome.

'_Make him pay_' Chuuya rolled his eyes at the dark rumble in the back of his head because of course Arahabaki would choose _now_ of all times to start talking again. The defeated deity had spent years quietly slumbering inside Chuuya quite peacefully. Dazai's arrival had caused the beast to stir.

'Piss off back to sleep, you'll know when the fighting starts.' Chuuya directed the words inside of himself, chuckling as Arahabaki growled in outrage. The sound was externalised this time, filling Chuuya's bedroom.

"You're really worked up, huh?" Chuuya spoke out loud this time, humming in thought before pulling several books off of the top of his bookshelf. He'd had to float a few feet up to reach them. "Fine. I'll burn some magic, maybe figure out what's up with all that dark energy inside Dazai. Happy?"

Arahabaki only grumbled in response, but Chuuya had spent long enough housing the beast to recognise it as a satisfied noise. Chuuya rolled his eyes again at the diety's antics, pulling one last book from his shelf before dropping to the floor, the impact silent.

With one last glance at his bedroom Chuuya sighed and teleported. It was time to get to the bottom of at least one of the many mysteries surrounding Dazai.

* * *

"This is my training room. It's warded to contain energy so I can let off steam without, well, destroying Yokohama. Earthquakes are bad."

Chuuya was proud of this room. It had taken over a year of planning and maths and inscriptions before he'd finally directed the house into shaping it, and even then he'd spent years perfecting the room after. It was a perfect circle. The walls were infused with gold, with seven pillars evenly spaced around the walls, each one coated in a mix of copper and iron. All magic boosting materials. When Chuuya stepped into this room he could feel his energy humming in his veins and dancing in the space around him, the air saturated with it. The gravity of the room always shifted in response, barely noticeable externally but Chuuya could feel it in his bones.

But while this room was a haven for Chuuya, he couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable Dazai looked here. He lingered by the doorway, shifting from foot to foot and glancing around at the air as though it might hurt him. Chuuya realised that Dazai could sense his magic when it was this potent, threaded with the abrasive roughness of Arahabaki.

"You would've made a great Mage." Chuuya watched as Dazai's eyes met his own, smiled at the confusion on the brunet's face. He was quick to elaborate, flipping one of the books he'd brought with him open, flicking through it to try and find the right page. "You've got the mind for it, the instincts too. Many civilians can't sense magic at all, no matter how potent it is. But you can sense mine right now, can't you? How its filling the room?"

He didn't have to look up - he was sure that Dazai was nodding. Chuuya placed the book down on the floor before picking up the next one, again skimming it to find the page he needed.

"I'm going to try something with you I haven't done in a very long time. We're going to cast a spell of growth. It's a relatively simple one, medium level magic that all types of Mage's can perform no matter their alignment."

He glanced up at Dazai once he'd found the right page in his book, raised an eyebrow in silent question at the confused frown on the man's face. Dazai spoke up after a moment, finally walking from the doorway over to the centre of the room so he could look down at the books Chuuya was organising.

"I thought you said your magic didn't work with other people's? Besides, I've already told you I'm not any kind of magician. I can't do any spells."

Chuuya smiled, pleased. He hadn't expected Dazai to remember his earlier explanation of collaborative spells, although he supposed he should've known that Dazai would. "That's right. I'm not going to be using my magic and you don't have to do anything. I'm going to take the energy that's in you and try to use it to perform the spell. I can't do nature magic anymore, so if the spell works it'll definitely be through your energy. Make sense?"

Dazai's nose scrunched, eyebrows drawing together in concentration and then he shook his head. Chuuya laughed, offering him a warm smile of reassurance. "Oh, don't worry about it. You can't understand _everything_ pet. Maybe you'll get it once you see it in action?"

He watched as Dazai nodded in a decidedly disbelieving manner. Chuuya just shook his head, placing the third and final book on the floor. With barely a thought he had them hovering a meter up in the air so he could read them all clearly. He took a slow breath as the books starting to draw shadows from the edges of the room, pulling them in to wrap around themselves as Chuuya gathered their power. With a surge from the first book a two by two meter patch of soil appeared on the floor, taken directly from the forest above them.

"Okay, that's where we're going to grow things. You just move a little to the right. Two back steps and - yeah, there you are." Satisfied that everything was in place Chuuya let the first book drop to the floor, turning his head to offer Dazai one last smile. "Okay, I'm going to start. You just stay still, alright?"

It was slow going at first. Chuuya closed his eyes so he could completely attune himself to the energy of the room. He could sense it all - the way his own energy filled the space, flitting about in jagged waves as Arahabaki stretched properly for the first time in weeks. This much of his - their - energy out in the open would usually be enough to start corroding the environment around them, but the wards he'd placed on the room held strong as always.

Then there was Dazai's energy. It filled him from head to toe, but now that Chuuya looked closely he saw that there wasn't any centre to the power. That meant it didn't originate from Dazai at all - the energy had been placed in him.

Chuuya didn't dwell on it now, knowing it would interrupt the spell if he started to get distracted. Instead he focused on the exit points that he could surprisingly find all over Dazai's body. Lines of mostly similar lengths on his chest, arms, thighs and even his neck. They were everywhere, all a few centimetres long and they'd work perfectly for drawing some of that magic out.

Carefully Chuuya reached out with his own core energy. It came right from his soul, the only part of his magic untouched by Arahabaki. It was enough. He nudged gently at the dark energy milling around inside Dazai's body, contained but with no purpose. The magic stirred, swirling about. Chuuya nudged harder, this time with more purpose, then a third time before the energy finally began to seep out of Dazai's body.

After the first few drops the energy spilt out quicker than Chuuya had expected. Usually at least fundamental Mage training would be required to open the pores as gates for the entrance and exit of magic, but instead Dazai had those line shaped exit points all over his body. Not quite as seamless as pores but effective enough. Chuuya drew the energy out and guided it over to the third book, letting it gather and sink into the page as it begun to perform the spell inscribed there.

Once he was sure he had a clear handle on Dazai's magic and the spell was in full effect Chuuya opened his eyes, grinning at the sight that met him. Bamboo shoots were growing before his eyes, saplings and vines stretching out of the dirt. It was beautiful.

A tree grew as he watched. It took less than a minute, Chuuya gazing in wonder as it stretched up to his ceiling, branches unfurling and erupting in leaves. That wonder quickly turned to confusion as the leaves all fell to the ground at once, dead. Chuuya stared, wide eyed as white lilies and chrysanthemums shot out from the dirt.

"Dazai-" He spun around, books and magical plants forgotten as he stared in horror. Dazai was still standing there but his eyes were blank, unseeing. What caught Chuuya's attention was the black dripping to the floor from his hands, the same black soaking through the bandages visible around his neck.

Chuuya rushed over, hit with the horrible realisation of what all those magical exit points had been, what the bandages were covering.

With no time for hesitation Chuuya scooped Dazai up in his arms, running with him out the door of the training room and teleporting as soon as they crossed the threshold. They landed in the familiarity of Chuuya's bedroom and he quickly placed Dazai down on the bed, grabbing the tub of water and washcloth that had been waiting for him on the floor. He was lucky the house had taken a liking to Dazai.

With a murmured apology to a man who couldn't hear him Chuuya stripped Dazai. He sliced through the bandages with ease, cutting magic flowing from his fingers. He kept tight control over it, careful not to cause any further harm to Dazai's skin. He only allowed himself a few seconds to take in the damage before he dipped the washcloth in water and started to wipe away the blood, because there was far too much of it to even see where it was all coming from.

It took half an hour of meticulous scrubbing before all the black blood was washed away and Dazai's skin was clear. Clear, except for the abundance of scars that seemed to cover him. Chuuya stared in muted horror. Aside from his face, hands and feet Dazai didn't have an unmarked patch of skin on his body. The scars were all only a centimeter or two in length, thin little slivers but they were _everywhere_, and Dazai had been bleeding from _all_ of them.

Chuuya was sure that after that ordeal Dazai needed rest. That was common sense. But Chuuya _needed _answers, and Arahabaki was growling, a low and deep rumble demanding the slaughter of whoever dared hurt Chuuya's pet. Chuuya took a deep breath to try and separate himself from the beast before placing a gentle hand over Dazai's eyes, murmuring a spell to wake him.

"Chuuya..?" Dazai's voice was so weak and vulnerable that Chuuya immediately felt guilty for waking him in the first place. Knowing he couldn't very well send Dazai back to sleep now he instead offered a smile, taking Dazai's hand in his own and squeezing in soft reassurance.

"Hey. The spell went wrong but I got you out. You're fine now."

Gods, Dazai looked so lost and Chuuya felt bad. He wished he could explain what had happened but he barely knew himself. The spell had started producing symbols of death and Chuuya had just _known_ something was going wrong from that alone. Dazai hadn't given him any kind of sign. He'd just stood there and _bled_.

"Chuuya. Its.. I'm cold."

"_Oh_." Chuuya realised with a start that he'd left Dazai lying on the bed in only his underwear. He grabbed a blanket from the nearby cupboard, throwing it over Dazai to offer him some modesty and hopefully some warmth, too. "Sorry about your bandages. You were bleeding and I had to take them off to clean you up."

Dazai frowned to himself but nodded after a moment, sighing and leaning back into the pillow. "You would've seen the scars eventually, I guess. Aren't they horrible?"

Chuuya was taken aback by that. "What? No, I- they're just scars, Dazai. I have loads. Magic wounds always scar no matter how superficial. I know one woman with way more scars than you. How did, uh, how did you get them?"

Even though Dazai shrugged as if it didn't matter, Chuuya didn't miss the way his body tensed under the blankets at the question. "Missions." The word came as a mumble and it was clear this wasn't a topic Dazai wanted to talk about. Chuuya sighed, before trying another approach.

"I know a spell that'll make scars fade. I can do it on you if you want." He watched as Dazai shot up in bed, exhaustion and blood loss seemingly forgotten. Instead he was staring at Chuuya so intently it was almost sad. Clearly the scars were a source of worry for Dazai - no wonder he covered them with bandages. "Really? You can really make them go away?"

Chuuya nodded, plastering a smile on his face. "Sure I can. Just need two days to prepare the spell and we'll be good to go."

There was no hesitation. Dazai nodded immediately, eyes the most determined Chuuya had ever seen them. He didn't miss the way Dazai was gripping fists in the bedsheets.

"Do it."

* * *

In Our Next Chapter, 'Trust';

It took me uh,, three and a half hours to edit this chapter so there is currently no preview, and I'm not gonna write one now. Sorry. The update will still be Monday as always though (: I want to read back over and give this chapter one more edit but I need to sleep. Pretty sure the start of this chapter is particularly janky so sorry about that. Love you all !

You guys left so many sweet comments on the last chapter, it made me so happy ! It might sound shallow but honestly reviews are my main motivation to keep writing. It tells me that there are people out there who genuinely want to read about my crazy ideas and that's so important to me. So thank you again to anyone who's ever written me a review or comment, you're the best ~ !


	6. 6: Trust

Six: Trust

* * *

"Dazai. Come on, we have to _eat_."

"Don't wanna." Dazai groaned, rolling his eyes as Chuuya sighed at him far more dramatically than was strictly necessary. He curled up tighter and whined as he felt a foot nudging at his leg; Chuuya's half hearted attempt to get him standing. That was entirely unfair because Chuuya was also draped out over the sofa, using his cloak as a blanket and floating a half full glass of wine a few feet above his head.

They'd started watching movies and after about half an hour Chuuya had brought out Sake. Dazai had a very strong suspicion that the arrival of the Sake had been intended to get him to shut up. He'd had a lot of questions about how Chuuya's magical underground house had electricity and now apparently WiFi. After a _lot_ of good Sake those questions seemed.. Less important.

Dazai whined again as Chuuya nudged harder, diving under his pile of blankets in defence. He heard Chuuya groan, and then Dazai felt the blankets start to lift off him. He yanked them back down, clutching them posessively and heard Chuuya groaned again "Seriously pet, if I don't feed you JAWS are gonna come and take you away. Get uuup."

(JAWs: Japanese Animal Welfare Society.)

"Noooo. M' not a dog, you can neglect me all you want and it's perfectly legal." Dazai could practically feel Chuuya's eye roll, even if he couldn't see it under his blanket mound. "Stupid wizard, not knowing the difference between a human and a dog."

Chuuya groaned again and Dazai smiled to himself in satisfaction as the blankets fell limp around him, the tug of reverse gravity gone. From the sounds of it Chuuya was too sleepy and 'pleasantly buzzed' from the amount of wine he'd sipped to rise to Dazai's insults. When he spoke again it was in a slurred, half asleep mumble. "Whatever. I was gonna make pancakes but I guess not. No pancakes for you, naughty pet."

Well that _certainly_ had his attention. Dazai peeked out from under the five impossibly fluffy blankets he'd piled on top of himself, squinting at chuuya. "Pancakes?" He watched as Chuuya nodded solemnly, although it was obvious enough that he was trying to contain a smile. Dazai sighed, a half pout forming on his lips. Of course his downfall would be at the hands of pancakes. That was just poetry.

Dazai reluctantly crawled out from under the blankets, only to slip off the side of the couch and land on the floor with a thud and a pained yelp. Dazai glared in the direction of Chuuya as he heard giggling from the couch.

"'S not funny." Dazai grumbled, before standing up and stretching, grimacing as bones clicked and joints popped. Then he turned to Chuuya, eyes narrowing as he saw that the Sorcerer was now trying to muffle his laughs with his cloak. All because Dazai had fallen on his ass. Even worse, Chuuya wasn't even standing up yet.

"Chuuuya, come ooon! Pancakes!"

Dazai watched in horror as what could only be described as a devilish grin made its way onto Chuuya's face, the man collapsing back onto the sofa pillows, clearly not intending to move. "Mm, nah. Don't wanna."

He glared in his displeasure but even that only made Chuuya grin. Dazai huffed, turning and storming off towards the door, trying not to wince at how his behind still throbbed from the fall and the room span a little as he moved just a bit too fast. "Fine. I'll make my own pancakes. Stupid wizard."

He stopped in the doorway, turning to glare at Chuuya one last time, expression souring as he saw the horrible wizard was laughing at him again. "Don't expect me to make you any. Meanie."

Chuuya nodded entirely too seriously and Dazai huffed, storming out the room and down the corridor. It twisted for him, a path branching off with only one door - which just so happened to lead to the kitchen. Dazai grinned.

"Thank you~!" He sung to the house, before looking around the kitchen, face falling in /slightly/ tipsy realisation.

He had no idea how to make pancakes.

* * *

It was one in the afternoon. Dazai was a bit hungover, fuzziness clinging to the edges of his mind like a constant disapproving reminder that he'd drunk just a little too much last night. He didn't regret it; the Sake had been high quality Niizawa Jozoten and it had made their competition to find the trashiest action movie in existence _far_ more interesting. Chuuya had definitely been drunk as well last night but he didn't seem phased in the slightest now, which wasn't fair at all.

Dazai had slept for eight hours which was practically unheard of for him. Ever since the house had changed his room Dazai had found himself sleeping better, now averaging on around six or even seven hours a night. It was unusual and difficult to adjust to but he found he didn't really mind the change. It was.. Nice. A nice change.

"Chuuya, is that spell for the scars ready yet?"

They were in a room that resembled an office. There was a desk and a small bookshelf and a chest full of draws that Dazai had already rummaged through while exploring the house. Chuuya was sat at the desk scribbling on a small notepad, Dazai spread out over the couch against the wall. It was smaller than the massive sofa in the library so his legs hung over one arm.

"Nope, not yet" Chuuya didn't even look up, still writing furiously. Dazai twisted his neck to try and see what Chuuya was writing, but the angle was wrong. "One more day. The lotion needs to stew for twelve hours."

Then Chuuya stood, placing his pen down and ripping off the top page of his notepad, looking over at Dazai "I need to go shopping. You've eaten all my good food."

"Oh." Dazai tensed in the chair after a moment's thought, realising this was a prime opportunity to try and get some time outdoors. "Can I come?"

Chuuya stared at him consideringly for a few moments before slowly nodding, crossing his arms. "Yes. I'll make you sit through kitchenware shopping seeing as you completely destroyed my best pan. What were you thinking, using a Wok for pancakes!?"

Dazai frowned at that, not liking that Chuuya was bringing this up _again._ "How was I supposed to know? They all look the same!" He saw how Chuuya's expression seemed to grow angrier at that comment and quickly changed the subject "Are you sure I can come? No creepy taking away my will or whatever?"

Chuuya sighed but nodded in confirmation, sitting down at the desk again and twirling a pen in his hands. The mindless action was performed in such a skilful manner that it made Dazai grin internally, because it meant that Chuuya had at one point sat down and consciously decided to practise his pen spinning skills. The man clearly had too much free time. "Yes, you can definitely come. I'll even maybe let you wander off or whatever. But first we need to talk."

Dazai groaned, sinking back down into the couch with a huff. He should've known a 'talk' was coming. "Ugh, fine. Whatever. Let's talk." Reluctantly Dazai sat up properly on the couch as Chuuya walked over, sitting down next to him. The couch was small, leaving them only a few feet apart. Dazai didn't know quite what to make of the proximity.

"So. Talking." Dazai watched closely as Chuuya shifted, hands moving about. He adjusted his cloak and tugged absently at a feather in his hair, and it suddenly hit Dazai that Chuuya was just as clueless in all this as he was. That gave him a strange sense of courage and he offered a weak smile in Chuuya's direction.

"I want to stay with you." Dazai got the words out before he could overthink and stop himself, and he felt just as surprised with the admission as Chuuya looked. The man stared at him in stunned silence for a few seconds before laughing, presumably at the unexpectedness of it. Dazai smiled properly at that. Chuuya had a nice laugh. It was strong, genuine.

"Yeah? Well that's definitely a good start for.. Whatever this is. Why though? Why stay here? If I wasn't forcing you to stay would you _really _still want to?"

Dazai shrugged, knowing that response might be one that hurt Chuuyas feelings but also knowing that Chuuya would likely value the truth here more than a fabricated explanation. "I suppose.. I don't want to go back to the Port Mafia. It's boring and cold and really, Oda would have wanted me to leave if I had the chance." Dazai sighed before meeting Chuuya's eyes, offering another half smile. "You're that chance."

He watched as Chuuya nodded slowly, thoughtfully, seeming to consider Dazai's explanation before asking another question. "So you really don't want to go back? If Mori stood in front of you and asked you to return to the Port Mafia but didn't have any way to force you to do it, would you go?"

Dazai sighed at all the complicated emotions that idea bought up, staring off at the wall. "I really don't know. I don't like the Mafia but it's.. It's my home. It's all I remember, Chuuya."

He felt a wash of relief when Chuuya didn't start trying to convince him otherwise or get angry at his indecision, only nodded in silent understanding. Dazai frowned to himself, remembered what Chuuya had said a few days ago. That he'd led the Port Mafia for years beside Mori. Had he felt this too, when he'd left? Dazai didn't know. He didn't feel as though it was right to ask.

"What do I do here, then? What's my purpose in your house?"

He watched as Chuuya smiled to himself, but it was a sad smile as he shook his head. "You don't have to do anything, Dazai. You just have to _live_ here. You can do whatever. Read, write a novel, learn how to make potions. Become a baker. Clean. I don't know and I don't _care_ because it's your life and you can do absolutely anything you want with it. Got it?"

Dazai nodded with a smile, even though he had absolutely no idea how he was going to do any of that. He was well aware that his logical thinking was top notch and he was better educated than most graduates, but on paper he didn't have any qualifications. He'd struggle to find a job. But Chuuya hadn't even suggested he get a job, more like.. hobbies. He'd never really been that into the idea of hobbies. They'd just get interrupted by missions.

He supposed.. maybe, maybe he could start some. Maybe it wouldn't be _that_ hard.

"So why do you want me to stay then? What are _your_ reasons?" Dazai had had enough of talking about himself. He'd just been more open with Chuuya than he'd been with anyone in a very long time. Luckily Chuuya took the question in stride, lounging back across the arm of his side of the couch. His arms were slung over the sides and his stupid coat-cloak was flowing around him. It was a physical effort for Dazai not to snort at the sight. Chuuya looked like some kind of messed up modern Renaissance painting.

"I do believe you're telling me the truth." Chuuya spoke with an ease that told Dazai he'd thought about this long before he'd actually been asked the question. "but there is always a chance you're not. You could still run off back to Mori, tell him where I live. Mages make enemies for life, Dazai. If we clash it won't end until one of us are dead."

Dazai nodded along to the explanation. It made enough sense. "Isn't there some kind of.. I don't know, tracking spell you can put on me? To make sure I don't go anywhere near Mori."

"It doesn't really work like that." Chuuya shrugged in way of explanation, and Dazai didn't miss how uncomfortable the man suddenly looked. Chuuya's right hand moved back up to fiddle with a bundle of three feathers that were braided into his hair, the cluster resting near his face. Two of them looked to be from a Tawny Owl, although one of them seemed closer in size and colour to a Thestral. The brown tones blended in with Chuuya's hair, unlike the royal blues and deep greens of some of the other feathers that adorned him. They were threaded into his hair alongside little jewels and golden rings. Dazai would really have to ask what they were all for at some point.

"I.. if there was some kind of spell that could let you leave, would you? Do you want to get out of here?" Chuuya opened his mouth as though to say more but then closed it again, thinking better of it.

Dazai frowned at that, shook his head. "No. No, I like it here. You have a lovely house, Chuuya." He hadn't quite noticed it at first but when he'd spoke Chuuya's voice had been laced with sadness. Dazai didn't know what to make of that. Did Chuuya really want him to stay? Was it something else?

Dazai didn't get the chance to ask. Before he could Chuuya was shifting up off the couch, standing an extending a hand to Dazai. Dazai took it, letting Chuuya pull him up.

"Come on, that's enough talking for the both of us. Shopping time."

* * *

It was strange, walking the familiarity of the shopping mall with someone so incredibly unfamiliar beside him. Chuuya had dragged him around what felt like every shop in the Queen's Square Mall and Dazai was starting to think that it was really good Chuuya had a shapeshifting house because there was _no way_ a normal person would be able to fit all this stuff in their home.

Dazai watched in half amusement half amazement as Chuuya picked up a vase from a display, inspected it and then dropping it right into his shopping bag. It had become quickly obvious to Dazai that despite how it looked like just another regular, tatty plastic bag it was definitely anything but. Chuuya had managed to fit what Dazai could only estimate was around three trolleys worth of shopping all into that one little bag.

Despite Chuuya's unusual shopping methods Dazai followed along, staring at the occasional eye-catching item as they passed. Chuuya had politely asked him not to stray more than fifteen metres away and Dazai was carefully sticking to that rule, not wanting to push Chuuya's boundaries on this quite yet. For now he was just enjoying being outside.

Dazai found he missed the atmosphere of Chuuya's home; the strange warm, comforting feel the air held that should be impossible for mere oxygen particles and yet there it had been, constantly enveloping him. He missed the quiet, too. When he was underground nobody could find him and he could afford to drop his defences just a little.

Despite all that it was still nice to be back out in the city. The crispness of cool air burned at his lungs and yet he welcomed it, letting it itch at the back of his throat with no qualms. The burn made him feel just a little more alive while the cacophony of hundreds of voices around him let him feel almost normal, if only for a little while. He fit right in here, if only because no one would ever notice just one more stranger in the sea of faces.

He sighed contently, allowing just a little tension to drop from his shoulders. Dazai rolled his eyes as he noticed that Chuuya had wandered over to yet another kitchenware section. Typical. Not wanting anything to do with cutlery Dazai walked over to a fine rack of coats instead, running his hands over different materials with a soft hum. Dazai hadn't seen his black coat since Chuuya had taken it weeks ago. It had been a gift from Mori, a sign of his recruitment into the Port Mafia.

Well. Perhaps it was time to get a new coat.

"Considering treason, Dazai-san?"

Dazai spun with a grin, and at this point he wasn't sure how much of the expression was genuine and where it was fake. He'd always had a soft spot for Hirotsu but regardless of his personal feelings, the man was still one of _them_.

"Hiroshi! ~" Dazai didn't miss the familiar way Hirotsu's eye twitched at his words. Ah, the man had never been too fond of that nickname. "To what do I owe this pleasure? Ooh, have you come to save me?"

Hirotsu raised an eyebrow, sharp eyes regarding Dazai with a forced kind of detachment. "Save? Mori has informed us that you are a traitor, Dazai. You of all people should know how the Port Mafia handles traitors."

"Traitor?" Dazai hummed, putting on a show of considering it. Of course Mori had painted him as a traitor. Dazai had been expecting something like this ever since Chuuya had told him the truth about Mori. Deliberately obvious in his actions Dazai glanced sidelong at Chuuya -who was busy inspecting the selection of Woks- and saw how Hirotsu followed his eyes. "Hmm, does sleeping with the enemy count as treason? Well! Guess that makes me a traitor then!"

The look on Hirotsu's face was well worth the fact that Mori was now going to be informed that Dazai was apparently sleeping with the very Sorcerer he was meant to assassinate. Dazai grinned even as Hirotsu grabbed onto his upper arm, a tight grip that to anyone else would serve as a warning. Dazai only smiled wider; Hirotsu's ability was fierce but as always it'd have no effect on him.

The man sighed as though only just now realising how inconvenient Dazai's ability proved to be when you were his enemy. Hirotsu tugged at his arm insistently until Dazai started walking. "Come on. It's… we're going to have to execute you, Dazai. Hope you don't mind."

"Oh, not at all~!" Dazai didn't even bother with a token display of resistance, although he found he couldn't seem to keep the smile off his face. It was fine. He knew that Hirotsu would just assume Dazai was happy that his long awaited release from life was fast approaching.

Only a few more meters to go.

"The changing rooms? This is where you choose to kill _me,_ of all the places? I really am offended."

Hirotsu rolled his eyes but didn't respond, apparently trying not to find Dazai funny. He was about to execute a long time colleague, after all. Dazai chuckled as he was pushed forward into a changing room cubicle, Hirotsu locking the door behind them. Dazai wasn't surprised to see Gin waiting inside, offered her the same half genuine smile he'd managed for Hirotsu. He'd always been fond of Gin. It was a shame life had dumped her in the mafia.

"Gin-chan! How lovely to see you again, even if these aren't the most pleasant of circumstances."

"Dazai." Dazai's smile widened into something more heartfelt as Gin spoke, nodding her head in recognition. It was rare for the fine lady to speak a word around colleagues, he was truly honoured that she'd speak for him. He supposed he really did mean something to these people, even if that something was irrelevant in the face of Mori's orders. "If it helps, I don't want to do this. I'd much rather you live."

Dazai grinned as he heard the sound of running footsteps approaching. About time.

"Not to worry Gin, that won't be a problem!"

They only had a second to be confused. Then Chuuya was somehow _in_ the cubicle and he had Gin by the throat, her knives flying out her cloak and thudding into the walls. Dazai liked to think that Hirotsu might have actually stood a chance, if Chuuya wasn't so unfairly overpowered- the man was quick to react, lunging at Chuuya, aiming to break his body the same way he'd destroyed so many of the mafia's targets with his ability.

Chuuya only sneered and Hirotsu dropped to his knees and then a second later was lying on the ground, twitching and making horrible gasping noises. Dazai frowned. This wasn't the way he wanted a.. a friend to die.

"Chuuya, that's enough. I _like_ these two, I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill them."

Dazai stared wide eyed as what sounded like a _growl_ reverberated off the cubicle walls, a deep inhumane noise that didn't even seem like it was coming from Chuuya's mouth. Then it stopped as quickly as it had started and Chuuya sighed, letting go of Gin. She stumbled back clutching at her throat and wheezing. As far as Dazai could tell whatever Chuuya had been doing to Horitsu also stopped, judging from the way the man slumped, unconscious.

Chuuya turned on him and Dazai almost winced at the intensity in his gaze. Almost, except Mori had had those sudden moments of intensity too and Dazai had learnt quickly not to balk at them.

"_Pet_." Oh dear, Chuuya sounded angry. Dazai had forgotten to anticipate for this - he'd been having far too much fun with Hirotsu and Gin. "What the _fuck_?"

Apparently that was all the question needed because Dazai started to explain, even as the air pressed tighter around him. It was a subtle pressure but it grated at his whole body. He shifted uncomfortably as if it to distill it. It didn't help. Dazai started to suspect the sensation wasn't his imagination but in fact Chuuya's magic.

"My _dear friends_ Hiroshi and Gin were unfortunately given orders to kill me by a certain asshole. I knew that as soon as they took me outside of that fifteen meter range you mentioned you'd come running and.. well, I was right! Here you are!"

Dazai grimaced as not one word of his explanation seemed to help his situation. Chuuya still looked pissed. Dazai sighed, looking down at Hirotsu's unconscious form on the ground.

"What did you do to him?" He asked mildly and Chuuya huffed, grabbing Dazai by the arm and dragging him out of the cubicle. Dazai turned to give a stunned Gin a wave goodbye before letting himself be led back towards the kitchen appliances.

"I increased the gravity around him. It can crush someone, basically. I was.. expecting the Mafia to pull something like this, but I wasn't expecting you to go along with it!"

Dazai frowned as Chuuya turned his head to glare at him, the look entirely accusatory. "Come on, that's not fair! I _knew_ Chuuya would come and rescue me! I had the whole thing planned out."

Chuuya gave a long suffering sigh but turned back to scanning the pans without another word, Dazai smiling to himself in victory. Chuuya had just single handedly defeated the leader and commander of the Black Lizard. There was no way they'd make a move again soon, not without some serious planning first. _And _they didn't even have their best tactician.

"Okay, that's pretty much everything actually. You got anything you want to look at before we go home?"

Dazai hummed in thought at the opportunity, eyes lighting up as an idea came to mind. "Oh Chuuya, take me to the Cup Noodle Museum!"

Chuuya looked as though he'd been punched. "Fuck no. I'm _not_ promoting your shitty eating habits, not in a million years." Dazai pouted and flashed his best attempt at puppy eyes but Chuuya only sighed, grabbing Dazai's wrist again and pulling him off towards the checkouts "Come on, I'm going to take you to a nice restaurant and you can order whatever you want, alright? Good, _healthy_ food."

"Awe, Chuuya's taking me on a date!" Dazai grinned as Chuuya rolled his eyes in response, but Dazai didn't miss that he was blushing. Hah. That was kind of adorable, actually.

* * *

"So what am I eating, exactly?"

Chuuya gave him a 'look' from across the table. After exactly ten minutes of Dazai scanning through the menu and choosing exactly nothing, Chuuya had caught on to the face that Dazai had next to no idea what most of the items on the menu actually were. As a result Chuuya had ordered for him.

"You're eating Abalone and King Crab Soba. They took it off the menu years ago but Kansuke-san made an exception for me."

Dazai nodded, staring down at his plate suspiciously. The starter that Chuuya had ordered him _had_ been nice - King Prawns. He'd liked those and they'd been peeled in advance so he hadn't even had to worry about burning himself. He'd tried a bit of Chuuya's starter and Chuuya had laughed at him as he'd choked at the spice. It had been a level of heat he'd never tasted before and it had taken him eating a half bowl of garlic rice to recover.

With a sigh Dazai stabbed a piece of what was apparently crab with just a little more vigour than was necessary. He popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly, eyes widening as he realised just how _good_ it tasted.

"Chuuya! Chuuya it's really good!" He stuffed three more pieces into his mouth at once and ignored how Chuuya was trying and failing to hide his laughter behind a napkin. Dazai gasped as an absolutely _brilliant_ idea came to mind, grinning. "Chuuya! You can cook this right? You can cook this for me at home?"

Chuuya shrugged, glancing at the dish thoughtfully before nodding "Yeah, sure I can. It's not that hard. Uh.. you really like crab, huh?"

Dazai nodded in happy response, eating another bit of the crab and then frowning as he realised that was the last piece. Unfair. He stared at Chuuya, who was only half way through his own dish that Dazai thought vaguely resembled some kind of beef. Was it beef? "Chuuya! I've run out, make it better!"

Chuuya didn't even bother trying to hide his laughter at that. "Dazai, that isn't - look, just wait till the sides come, yeah? I promise you'll like them, maybe even more than the crab. I'll let you order two deserts if you have room to make up for it, okay?"

Dazai nodded immediately at the prospect of double dessert. That sounded like quite the deal. This.. if choosing to live with Chuuya meant that life would be _fun_ like this, Dazai supposed it really wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

"You really shouldn't be messing with those, pet."

Dazai jumped in surprise, turning and almost dropping the jar of dust he was holding. It wasn't fair that Chuuya could use magic to sneak up on him like that. Dazai squinted accusingly at Chuuya, clutching the jar protectively against his chest. "I've been mixing these for _hours_, I'm not letting you stop me now."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, stepping in from the doorway. Dazai had been exploring again and had come across a medium sized room stocked with jars full of differently coloured dust. Some were glowing. A few had turned to black when he'd mixed them with other dusts and Dazai had hastily stuffed those jars back onto the shelf.

The jar he was holding had five different types of dust inside it. The dust had all shifted to a shimmering ruby red and was floating around the jar in lazy waves. It was also making small noises that sounded suspiciously like tiny cat meows.

"Yeah? How about if I tell you the spells ready, would that stop you?"

Dazai almost dropped the jar. Instead he placed it a little too forcefully on the shelf, turning back to Chuuya immediately afterwards. "Yeah? Can we do it now? We can, right?"

He hated how desperate he was for this. On the other hand, Chuuya had so far managed to access many sides of him that Dazai had managed to keep hidden from people for nearly ten years. Desperation never had suited him, but he supposed as long as Chuuya didn't use it as leverage now or in the future then the Sorcerer seeing him like this didn't matter _that_ much.

"Yeah. We can do it now if that's what you want."

Dazai nodded eagerly and Chuuya reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, teleporting them both to a room that Dazai hadn't seen before. He stumbled a few steps upon landing but didn't feel as though he was going to throw up this time. He was slowly getting used to the teleportations; good.

He looked around as Chuuya started to set things up, the man pulling a jar and book out of thin air. The room was bare except for a simple bed with a white sheet in the centre. No duvet, no pillows. Dazai turned his eyes back to Chuuya, feeling something that wasn't quite concern but was definitely close to it as he noticed for the first time the dark rings under Chuuya's eyes.

"Chuuya? Are you.. Are you alright?"

The words felt strange. Dazai bit his lip as Chuuya turned and stared at him for a moment, looking both surprised and confused. Then his face pinched in realisation and he muttered a sharp curse under his breath. A moment later the eye bags were gone and Chuuya was turning to face him, a perfect smile on his face.

"I'm fine, of course. We've had a nice day and you actually have a favourite food now _and_ I got a new slow cooker. So yes, of course I'm fine."

Dazai only nodded but didn't bother to fight a frown from his lips. That was quite possibly one of the worst explanations he'd ever heard. Chuuya was usually far smoother than that. Maybe he was stressed out by having another person in his house? Dazai sighed, chewing harder into his lip. If that was the case, surely Chuuya would just kick him out..?

"Okay, so you're going to have to take your clothes off for the spell. The bandages too."

Dazai froze for a second at that then hid his hesitation with a dramatic sigh "Fiiine. I guess if it'll get rid of the scars it's alright. Are you sure Chuuya doesn't just want to see me naked?"

His teasing wasn't met with a smile or laugh like Dazai had expected. In fact Chuuya didn't say anything at all. Dazai felt his eyebrows draw together in concern, glancing at Chuuya sidelong even as he started to strip off his clothes, starting with his trousers.

Now that he was really paying attention he noticed how Chuuya was looking vacant, empty and not at all like himself. Dazai didn't like it. It was the same kind of expression that was reflected back at him when he looked in a mirror. Dazai avoided mirrors.

Chuuya hadn't been like this at all earlier. He'd been laughing and smiling and dragging Dazai from aisle to aisle of the store, excitedly explaining all of his favourite items and their places in his home. What had changed? Was it to do with the spell?

Dazai frowned at that thought. Maybe, _maybe_ if the spell was for anything other than the scars Dazai would say that if Chuuya didn't really want to do it, it was fine. But it _wasn't_ fine and Chuuya had been the one to suggest it in the first place, so Dazai said nothing. He ignored the small shred of guilt that coiled in his stomach because such a response was stupid. He had _nothing_ to feel bad about.

"Right. Lie down on the bed and I'll start."

As instructed Dazai walked over to the bed, regarding it for a moment before clambering up and lying down on his back, staring up at the bare wooden ceiling. The mattress was very firm and he felt a little cold like this but he carefully suppressed a shiver. He didn't want Chuuya to fuss over him, not now. Not that Dazai didn't like being fussed over, but in his hierarchy of needs the spell was definitely more important.

"So this-" Dazai watched as Chuuya pulled a stoneware bowl out of the air, pouring the contents of the jar into it "-is what I'm going to apply to the scars. It's a paste, should feel warm on your skin. If you feel like it's burning you tell me straight away, okay?"

Dazai nodded dutifully and Chuuya offered him a trace of a smile before dipping two fingers into the bowl. When he pulled them out they were coated with a thick looking green-grey paste.

"Hold still."

Dazai inhaled sharply as Chuuya's skin met his for the first time. Chuuya didn't say anything, starting to cover the scars in paste, remaining silent. It was warm just like Chuuya had said it would be. Unfortunately that meant that Dazai couldn't blame the paste on the goosebumps Chuuya's touch were raising.

Gentle fingers ran up his arm from his elbow to his shoulder, the touch careful but firm. Dazai was hyper aware of the sound of his own breathing, of Chuuya's. He noticed the roughness to Chuuya's middle finger; the slight bump of a raised scar. He noticed the way that the smooth glide of paste started to run out when Chuuya reached his shoulder, replaced by the slight scratch and friction of skin that made his nerves feel as though they were lighting up. He wasn't sure anyone had ever touched that particular patch of skin before, not even Mori.

Dazai took a slow, deep breath through his nose as Chuuya's hand lifted up, moving back to the bowl to get more paste. He was suddenly very much aware of just how many scars he had. They were everywhere; his chest, his stomach, arms and legs. Even his neck and upper thighs. His back - he'd have to turn over once Chuuya had finished his front. They were going to be here for _hours_.

They both remained silent as the pad's of Chuuya's fingers returned to his skin for the second time, then a third. He focused on his breathing, keeping it relaxed and even. Chuuya's touch felt like little flames dragging along his skin but Dazai didn't say anything, didn't tell Chuuya the paste was burning because he knew it wasn't the paste.

Really. Things would be so much easier if it _was_ the paste.

His upper arm coated Chuuya moved a little higher, fingers following a line of scars from his shoulder round to the edge of his neck. Dazai had to close his eyes for a moment at that. The sensation of touch was even _more_ intense on his neck.

Chuuya's fingers repeated their path a second time, then a third. On the fourth they paused halfway and Dazai shifted his gaze from the ceiling to Chuuya as he heard a hitch in his breath, the sound more an aborted exclamation.

Dazai watched. Chuuya didn't look well, not at all. He was staring off at the wall, eyes unfocused but wide, mouth hanging just a little open. He looked _horrified_. Dazai felt his own panic flare in response as he saw the starts of _tears_ in Chuuya's eyes.

"Chuuya..?" He spoke the man's name softly, barely a whisper. It seemed to snap Chuuya from whatever state he was in because he gasped and jerked his hand back away from Dazai, staring down at is as though he'd been stung.

"I.. We're done. I don't need to do anymore."

"What..?" Dazai looked on in a mix of concerned confusion as Chuuya started pacing by the bedside, pausing only to snatch a handtowl out of the air and toss it at Dazai.

"Wipe the paste off. I don't want to touch you again. Gods, that bastard..."

The words were muttered absently and although it was clear Chuuya's mind was somewhere else, the sharpness of the statement hit Dazai in a way he hadn't expected, couldn't explain. He took a deep breath through to settle himself and started wiping off the paste because he was sure there was some kind of logical but unexplained reason that Chuuya didn't want to touch him right now. It wasn't the scars. It wasn't _personal_.

Dazai stared down at his skin as it was revealed, the paste coming off surprisingly easy. _Oh, that can't be right_. Confusion growing Dazai wiped off another patch of paste. _The same. What the hell, Chuuya?_

With a frown Dazai stared at his flesh and the mess of little white lines that still marked it, the starts of a creeping dread rising from the pits of his stomach. A creeping realisation that he ignored because there _had_ to be some other explanation.

"Chuuya..?" Dazai's voice wavered with tears he wouldn't shed. He didn't need to say anymore. The single word voiced all the questions he could have asked; "_Chuuya, why are the scars still here?_" or "_Chuuya, did something go wrong?_"

The Sorcerer in question sighed, pausing in his pacing at the foot of the bed and spinning around to face Dazai. The brimming tears had disappeared, the horror of his expression replaced with hardness. He didn't say anything, only stared at Dazai, eyebrows drawing in just a little. That made Dazai feel suddenly self conscious, although he got the distinct impression that Chuuya was seeing far more than just his body.

"Why are the scars still there?" He spoke again just to break the silence and Chuuya frowned this time, as though the question was entirely unexpected. Then waved a dismissive hand and turned back to the bowl of paste, starting to scoop it back into the jar it had come from.

"Of course they're still there. There isn't some miraculous spell to fade scars. No. This spell let me see the story behind each one, showed me how you got them. It was.. Very informative. You've been through more than I ever imagined, pet."

He felt nauseous at first. For a second he genuinely thought he might throw up. Then the moment passed and Dazai could only stare, feeling suddenly but unshakably numb. A coldness that started in his chest and then moved up, spreading through his limbs and veins and muscles until he felt _nothing_. He registered the wetness of a tear falling from one eye and then the other, rolling down his cheeks but he didn't _feel_ them.

Chuuya was staring as though someone had slapped him, eyes a little wide in surprise, mouth open and the edges tilted down. Dazai found he didn't care.

"You lied to me." He heard his own voice, tongue shifting and forming words that his mind had no connection to. Chuuya's frown deepened and he stepped forward, hand raising as though he was going to reach out but he seemed to think better of it, the hand dropping back down by his side again.

"I- yes, but it was necessary. You see that, right? Right Dazai?"

Chuuya sounded just a little desperate and Dazai felt a single moment of outrage because Chuuya had _lied_ to him, tricked him for reasons Dazai couldn't even imagine. His scars were from missions that there was no reason for Chuuya to know anything about. He felt all his anger and outrage compressed into that single moment before that too was gone. He was blank again.

"I _trusted_ you."

Dazai didn't stay to watch how Chuuya's expression fell, a lonely man overtaken by helpless confusion at the idea of anyone trusting him. No, Dazai didn't even bother to collect his clothes. He walked straight out the room, down the hallway. He was met immediately with the door to his bedroom but didn't thank the house this time. He couldn't bring his lips to move, couldn't make the words come out.

The most he could manage was a nod to the wall as he walked through the door and went immediately to the bed, pulling the covers over his body, his head. If the house had seen what had just happened, what Chuuya had just done to him - it would understand. The house would understand. If he was lucky it wouldn't let Chuuya anywhere near his room, either.

Dazai stared at the darkness of the sheets cocooning him, shielding him from reality. He still felt numb. He didn't want to feel his emotions, not now. That would just lead to the inevitable feelings of anger and betrayal and those wouldn't _help_ anything. So instead Dazai stared at the covers around him. He'd fall asleep eventually, maybe. Maybe not.

It didn't matter. He would face the world and the complexity of emotions later. For now he was _done_.

* * *

In Our Next Chapter;

It doesn't exist. If you're noticing a trend here you'd be correct! That trend is called 'I have exams but am somehow also cranking out 7k chapters so here we are with no chapter preview'

* * *

The real question here is whether or not Dazai wanting to stay with Chuuya counts as Stockholm syndrome?

This chapter can basically be summarised as 'Chuuya fucks up. Bad.'

Honestly tho he's been on his own for so long he was _not_ expecting Dazai to trust him. At all. That possibility didn't even cross his mind so now he's completely shocked that Dazai took this as a personal betrayal instead of just,, a necessary not-even-that-evil (which is how Chuuya saw it)

Yeaaah spoiler alert Chuuya is almost as fucked up as Dazai he just _hides it better_ (':

Also we hit 6k words again what is this magic. I literally do not have the time to be writing this much and yet here we are. Huh. Well, thank you as always for reading! See all you absolute Angels next chapter 3 where we will be meeting Yosano! Yay!


	7. 7: Just a Child

Seven: Just a Child

* * *

Trigger warnings for this chapter in end notes

* * *

Not knowing what else to do, Chuuya had visited Yosano. The Enchantress was a long time friend and trusted confidant. For many years now they would meet up every few moons, sharing stories and advice and good alcohol. This time Chuuya had gone to Yosano partly to complain and partly to seek council. Dazai had managed to throw his life off balance scarily quickly. Chuuya needed to vent about that, and also about how his own home had been pushing a constant hostile air at him ever since... well, ever since the spell.

Chuuya sighed in his self pity, knocking back another glass of wine as though it were a shot. He was distantly aware that such wastage of a good vintage would usually disgust him, but tonight he found himself far too drunk to care about silly things like sacrilege.

He'd always been drawn to Yosano's home, even though it was far smaller than his own ever expanding underground haven. A cabin in the woods, simple and unmoving but sturdy, reliable. Every wall and floor and piece of furniture was filled with Yosano's magic.

By design the house was warm and welcoming, humming with an energy that often lured in weary travelers. The two Mages sat in Yosano's personal room, the one reserved for guests of the magical variety. It was large but the space was filled with precarious stacks of magical books and a multitude of shelves adorned with artefacts and potions. Chuuya always felt at home in here, surrounded by so much magic. It was almost suffocating in its intensity and he _loved_ it.

In the centre of the room was a table, and on each side of the table was a recliner. That was where they now sat, an Enchantress and a Sorcerer drinking and trying to sort out the mess Chuuya had gotten himself into.

"So."

Chuuya groaned at that word, the tone. Whenever Yosano said 'so' like that it meant she was about to summarise his recent actions - more often that not in a way that would make them sound far worse than they truly were.

"You took this kid into your home after he tried to kill you. You cooked for him and found out that his favourite food is crab and he apparently despises olives."

Chuuya nodded reluctnatly and Yosano continued on, voice dripping witrh condescending judgement. "You watched horrible films with him and took him to a fancy restaurant. Basically couple levels of sappy shit. And then after _all that_ you decide oh, let's _lie to him_ with the promise of something he _really wants_, because it'll let us see his inevitably tragic and oh so important past?"

Chuuya peeked out from where he'd hidden his face in his cloak covered arms over half an hour ago, squinting at Yosano. A stranger may have missed it but Chuuya was no stranger - even as incredibly drunk as he was, he could see the hints on Yosano's face telling him that the woman was _furious_. There was no point trying to defend himself - he'd spent two hours retelling the events of the month he'd spent with Dazai, growing increasingly inebriated with each story.

So now, Yosano fumed, entirely unimpressed by Chuuya's bad life choices. "Nakahara you absolute _idiot_. I have never known you to do something so absolutely stupid!"

Chuuya frowned at her, squinting his eyes as she blurred at the edges. It had been a long long time since he'd drunk quite so much. With a sudden urgency he reached up and grabbed his hat as it threatened to slip right off his head, readjusting it carefully. Usually he kept it spelled on so that it never fell off, but right now he was so drunk that all his spells felt a little wonky.

"I dunno Yosano, deciding to fight Arahabaki was pretty fucking dumb of me."

His voice was surprisingly free of slur. Arahabaki's low grumble of agreement reverberated through the room. Chuuya giggled at that because the deity's timing really _was_ hilarious, but Yosano only rolled her eyes, unamused. "Yeah, but you _won_ that fight and now you have the power of a God in you. Tricking Dazai like that was horrible and cruel. You're not a cruel man, Chuuya."

His lips started to curl into a sneer of denial at Yosano's words but then he realised that such a thing was useless. Instead he groaned and dropped his head back down to the table with a dull thunk. He didn't react to the impact - the wine numbed out the pain. "Whatever. Doesn't matter what kind of _person_ I am. It had to be done, yeah? And now it is. Done."

Yosano sighed, the noise loud and disappointed. Chuuya glanced up to watch as she crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him thoughtfully. "Was it really necessary, though? Couldn't you have just _asked_?"

Chuuya shook his head, frowning as he remembered what he'd seen when he'd touched Dazai's scars. He'd lost sleep over those visions. It was a horrible truth but it had been the final puzzle piece he'd needed. Everything had clicked into place and he'd finally understood Mori's game enough to make himself a player again.

_Was it worth it, though?_ Chuuya rolled his eyes at the traitorous thought. Yes. Of course it was worth it. That didn't make the consequences hurt any less.

"I couldn't just ask, he didn't even know about it himself. He thinks the scars are all from _missions_, Yosano. Assassinations and infiltrations all gone wrong."

Yosano frowned at that, sipping from her own glass of wine thoughtfully, clearly starting to put the pieces together for herself now. "All the intel I gathered suggested that Mori's black dog was ruthless in temperament and efficiency, had never failed a - ah. I think I see, now"

Chuuya nodded grimly, neither of them willing to vocalise what they both knew. It really was such a horrible truth. He wished he didn't have to know. He groaned again as another realisation hit him, poured himself another glass of wine in an attempt to stave off the pain.

"Gods, I'm going to have to tell Dazai, aren't I? That is not a conversation I want to have."

Yosano didn't let it show in her voice but Chuuya could see from the way her eyebrows drew in that the idea upset her, even if she didn't know Dazai. Chuuya wasn't surprised. Yosano had always been empathetic despite her seemingly careless facade - it was why she made such a wonderful confidant. Even if Chuuya had done something absolutely stupid, she tried to understand.

"Would it not be more of a kindness to not tell him? 'Ignorance is bliss', as they say."

Chuuya nodded his agreement. "Oh, it would be. But I promised Dazai that I'd tell him what Mori's intentions are when I found out. I'm not.. I won't lie to him again, Yosano. Even in this."

The Enchantress sighed in resignation, taking another long sip of her wine - then staring at the glass consideringly for a moment before draining the remainder. "You're an honourable fool at the worst of times, Nakahara. Now go apologise to Dazai before you break his heart all over again. It's only right."

Chuuya nodded and stood, turned, ready to walk out the house and teleport away. But he found himself pausing on Yosano's doorstep, hesitating there for a second before turning back to face her. "Do you really think it will? Break his heart?"

A moment's pause at that before Yosano sighed and sat heavily on the second step of her staircase, staring at Chuuya. "I doubt he really cares for Mori. No one can be raised by that bastard and come out of it _caring_, trust me on that one. But.. there will be betrayal. Panic, he may even go into shock. Be careful Chuuya, humans are delicate."

Chuuya laughed at that one, the familiar words Yosano _always_ found a way to drop when a Mage she cared for was about to tamper with human affairs of any kind.

"You'd be the expert on that on. You forget Yosano, we were both humans once."

"Mm. Once."

They shared a grin, smiles flashing with the confidence of creatures both far too powerful for the world. The Enchantress looked every bit the predator she was in that moment, eyes shining in the strings of white fairy lights she had strung up in her entrance hall. Even here on the doorstep of her house Chuuya could feel the electric crackle of magic in the air. With a two fingered salute in place of a goodbye Chuuya teleported away back to his own home, only realising once he landed in his kitchen that Yosano had magicked away any and all effects of his drunkenness.

He sighed at her antics, sorely tempted to pull a fresh glass of wine right out of the air and start the road to getting drunk all over again, but no. So thoroughly hammerted that he could barely see straight was not a good state to be in when he tried to fix things with Dazai.

It had been four days.

On the first day Dazai hadn't left his room and Chuuya had left him be, not trying to enter or even use a spell to see inside. On the second day Chuuya had gone about his own business as usual. He'd teleported into the kitchen to grab a sandwich before returning to his study but Dazai had already been there, picking through the fridge.

Chuuya had caught the precious seconds of shock on Dazai's face; he clearly hadn't planned to be seen. But Chuuya had smiled and greeted him and offered to make Dazai a sandwich, and to his surprise Dazai had agreed.

Chuuya had been a fool to even contemplate that such an interaction had meant he was forgiven.

Dazai had held conversation with him, but his smile had been fake and sharp. Every word had been cold and cutting and every joke had held a double meaning laced with venom. That had continued the next day, and the next. Chuuya had only been able to handle those three days of it before he'd teleported away half way through dinner, right to Yosano's doorstep.

He'd carefully left that part out while he'd been venting to Yosano because she would've called it running away. He _hadn't_ run away. He'd just been seeking the advice of a trusted friend because he couldn't, _couldn't_ handle those cold eyes and colder words for a moment longer.

He missed the warm jokes, the slightly hesitant but often meaningful questions. The rare shy smiles that weren't forced, the expressions and raw emotions that weren't masks. He missed them all - missed _Dazai_ \- in ways he'd never expected of himself.

Chuuya took a deep breath. He held it for several seconds before exhaling slowly and pouring himself a glass of water, drinking it slowly to try and clear his head. He could feel his own emotions and he could also feel Arahabaki's rage, thrashing inside of him and stoking Chuuya's own anger. Of course he was angry. The things Mori had done were unacceptable and he'd hurt Dazai and Dazai was _his_, Dazai was _his pet_ and he was going to, he _was_ -

With a frustrated growl Chuuya slammed the glass down on the counted, forcefully pushing down Arahabaki's influence, hating how active the beast was these days. He wasn't scared - if he was scared of Arahabaki he never would have been able to dominate the deity in the first place. It had always been possessive over Chuuya and now it was possessive over Dazai, too. Ever since Dazai had first shown up Arahabaki had started stirring and now that Chuuya knew, now that he'd _seen_.. Well, he supposed the beast had every right to be angry.

"Soon. We _will_ make him suffer, but you _must_ be patient now. That's what you've always lacked, isn't it? The ability to _wait._ That's how I beat you, you know."

Chuuya could have sworn he heard the beast huff inside him but then it settled, Arahabaki's influence retracting from the forefront of Chuuya's consciousness. "There we go. Don't be a dick, yeah? You would have been destroyed in the purge if it wasn't for me, don't you forget it."

Silence, but Chuuya wasn't expecting a response. The purge wasn't something any God's really liked to think about - it hadn't been that long ago, when a group of powerful people had decided that minor earth-dwelling deities should all be slaughtered. Chuuya had fought and consumed Arahabaki _long_ before then, but if he hadn't the beast would have likely been roaming the Earth at the time of the purge and most definitely would have been destroyed.

When Chuuya had gone off to fight Arahabaki nobody had expected the deity to retain a consciousness once consumed. Sometimes it was.. Nice, to have a constant presence with him at all times. Other times it was really fucking annoying.

Chuuya sighed, pushing thoughts of his godly tennant to the back of his mind for now because Arahabaki was most definitely not going to help him in his efforts to reconcile with Dazai.

Steeling himself Chuuya teleported outside of Dazai's room, listening closely for a moment. He heard no noise from inside, but he supposed that was to be expected. It was a half hour past midnight but Chuuya could sense Dazai's energy through the walls and it wasn't the energy of a sleeping man.

Hating the little bubbles of dread inside him - he was _better_ than this - Chuuya reached out and knocked on the door, pushing words out when no response came from inside the room. "Dazai, I uh.. I figured out why Mori - well, what he did to you."

No response and Chuuya silently cursed at himself. That wasn't what he had been meaning to say! He'd meant to say he was sorry but he'd panicked at the last second and the words had come out all wrong and -

"I don't care about what he did, I just want to be left alone."

Chuuya bit hard down on his lip in frustration, because he knew those words weren't true. Dazai _did_ care, he'd made Chuuya promise to share any new information he found on Mori _weeks_ ago! Chuuya tugged a hand through his own hair in irritation, gritting his teeth as his fingers were stopped by braids and feathers. They served their purpose but they made brushing anything through his hair an absolute bitch.

"Fine, I came to apologise. I'm sorry I lied to you. It was - I was stupid"

"I don't _care_! You are stupid, you're an absolute idiot actually, now _go away_!"

Anger was Chuuya's first response. He went to push at the door, force his way into the room. He reeled back with a hiss as vines laced with thorns shot out of the doorframe, barring him from ever touching the door. If he really wanted to he could teleport into Dazai's room, but this wasn't about that. It was a message; he wasn't welcome, not in there.

Chuuya laughed at himself, then. At first in despair: a soft, vulnerable noise because he'd fucked up so badly that his own house had turned against him. Then a quiet chuckle as he realised that even after all this he was still so relieved to hear emotion in Dazai's voice. The entirely justified anger there as he demanded Chuuya go away.

It was so much better than the coldness, the emptiness. Deciding to take what he was given Chuuya left without another word. He'd said what needed to be said - when it was time Dazai would find him, and that was that.

* * *

As it turned out, 'time' was four days later. That morning Chuuya had checked his calendar and done the math and realised that it was in fact exactly one month since Dazai had popped up and tried to kill him. It was by far the longest amount of time someone besides himself had spent in his home - before Dazai, the record had been eleven days.

Chuuya was in the library - the same library he'd spent hours in with Dazai, because he was a sentimental fool who was trying very hard to unravel Mori's intentions and agenda all while wallowing in his own self pity.. and hatred.

Chuuya had done a lot of thinking since Dazai had turned him away three nights ago. He'd thought about what Yosano had said, how their movie nights and pep talks and deep, meaningful ever so slightly existential conversations were all apparently classified as 'couple levels of sappy shit'. Chuuya had considered it, blushed for about five seconds before scowling as he realised it didn't very well matter now because he'd gone and fucked everything up regardless.

It had been a long time since he'd ever considered someone a long term romantic interest - less time since he'd slept with someone, but even then Dazai wasn't his.. Type. Chuuya had never had a particular interest in girls, but he'd never been fussy when choosing the men he'd pick up at clubs or bars when he was feeling bored or angsty or just particularly wanted to fuck. He could work with all types in bed.

Relationships, though.. They were different from a simple one night stand. When Chuuya had envisioned a possible partner he'd never seen himself getting with someone who held quite so much emotional baggage as Dazai. There were the scars, or more importantly the story behind them. The fact he was a feared assassin too - Chuuya was sure that would come back to bite him at some point. Oh, and perhaps the slight issue of a 'fake it till you make it' approach to emotions, which really couldn't be healthy.

So why then did he find it effortless to put up with Dazai's witty banter and snide remarks and the odd adorable moment when he discovered he loved something for the first time. Why was it so easy, so enjoyable to deal with these things that he should, _would_ find insufferable if they were coming from any of the one night stands that always left him satisfied, never left him wanting for _more_?

Well. He supposed that was the reason they were _one_ night stands.

Chuuya sighed at his own pondering, flopping back onto the couch and staring up at the books floating around in the air above him. This was entirely ridiculous. There was no point comparing Dazai to one night stands when he'd never even slept with Dazai. For all Chuuya knew Dazai could very well be a virgin - although, due to his irritatingly handsome face Chuuya found that one hard to imagine.

There was also the fact that Chuuya had betrayed him so now Dazai would probably hate him forever. Chuuya sighed again, glaring at the ceiling. Yes, that minor detail.

Chuuya shot up as he heard someone clearing their throat from the doorway. He stared at Dazai, not liking that the man had seen him ruminating like that and _damn_, he must have been way more caught up in his own thoughts than he'd realised to not have noticed Dazai entering the room.

They stared at each other, books still floating in the air around Chuuya and Dazai dressed entirely in gifted clothes. Chuuya didn't speak, wanting to let Dazai have the first word. That seemed to be the right decision because after a few tense moments Dazai did start talking.

"Well then?" His tone was entirely demanding, coupled with impatient arms crossed across his chest expectantly. "I don't forgive you, but I want to know. Why did Mori send me?"

Chuuya opened his mouth to spout out an answer before pausing, looking away and wetting his lips, taking a moment to think. He'd been so caught up on getting Dazai to forgive him and _maybe_ like him again that he'd almost forgotten the delicacy of the information he was about to share. This would require a more gentle approach.

"Okay, so.. First off I'm still not completely solid on his intentions. But!" Chuuya jumped to his feet as Dazai begun to turn towards the doorway, apparently ready to walk away. He couldn't go, not now. "Everything makes so much more sense now that I know what I do. About you, about the magic you have when you're not even a Mage. Why.. Why Mori of all people would choose to take in a child. Not even an Apprentice, just… just a child"

He sighed because he could see the beginnings of confusion on Dazai's face already. He knew he wasn't making much sense, himself. He couldn't seem to find the right words to translate his thoughts at the moment. This wasn't like him; after so much practise, he could usually weave flawless sentences with ease. Frustrated at his own behaviour Chuuya ran a hand through his hair, having to stop himself from yelling in anger as the fingers caught in feathers yet again. This was the third time today. His hair was starting to look a tangled mess.

"Chuuya." his eyes shot to Dazai as the man spoke, wondering what he would continue with. More questions, probably. Perhaps an insult, spoken in words that he wouldn't usually take direct offense to - except this time, they'd be barbed with venom.

"When was the last time you slept?"

His eyes narrowed. "Why the fuck do you care?" The words were more of a growl than he intended, but it had been _days_. Dazai looked like he was actually going to give him a reason, too, so Chuuya spoke before he could.

"You're smart. Smarter than me, maybe, I don't fucking know - the point is, this is shit you need to know too so we can sort out what Mori's plotting and what his next move is. He wants me dead and right now he sees you as the equivalent of collateral."

Dazai didn't argue, only stayed quiet and listened. That was a blessing. Chuuya didn't think he could handle it if Dazai had a breakdown over being called collateral right now. Although.. Dazai already knew he was expendable to Mori, didn't he? The asshole had sent the Black Lizard commanders to execute him after all.

Chuuya sighed, adjusted his hat in lieu or raking hands through his hair again. Of course Dazai had already known. Chuuya had _known_ that Dazai knew. Things were getting too confusing. Gods, he needed to sleep. But no, first he needed to make sure that Dazai understood. Then, _then_ he could sleep.

"Okay. So. There are some memories you've got locked away in that pretty head of yours that you can't access right now, alright? And if you could access them shit would be a lot easier. You'd understand this mess, why it's so important." Dazai nodded as though this all made perfect sense to him and Chuuya kept himself from sighing. His own speech was growing less structured, more informal as his mind grew tired and his brain raced to keep up and he _knew_ that was the kind of shit Dazai would pick up on, but he couldn't help it.

"Well, luckily for both of us I can unlock the memories. Right here right now, if you want."

Dazai was silent for a good few seconds and Chuuya didn't push him, half expecting the man to say no. But eventually Dazai nodded, walking across the room to Chuuya. He didn't break eye contact, staring right at him and somehow that was enough to make Chuuya feel trapped, as though he couldn't look away - it would be a sign of weakness, if he did. So they stared at each other and Dazai's gaze was carefully considering and Chuuya couldn't even begin to interpret his expression.

Then; "Exhaustion doesn't suit you, Chuuya."

He barked a laugh at that, the unexpectedness of it, placing gentle hands on Dazai's shoulders and guiding him to sit on the couch, leaving Chuuya standing. "Pretty sure it doesn't suit anyone. Now can we please stop talking about how sleep deprived I am and get on with this spell?"

Dazai nodded and Chuuya floated the necessary book over from the bookshelf, flicking through it to the page he needed. It was unnecessary, he already had the spell memorised, but he wasn't about to take any risks when it came to mind magic. When it came to Dazai.

"Okay, you're going to feel a tingling and then you'll pass out and - hey, don't look at me like that, it's a necessary part of the process. You'll live through all the memories that are new or changing. You won't actually feel anything, but it'll be enough that you know what they are, which ones have changed"

"Alright." Chuuya was glad to see that Dazai didn't seem as worried by all this as he'd anticipated him being. Maybe he _was_ worried and was just hiding it well. Better than Chuuya could. "How long will it take?"

He shrugged at that. "Depends how many memories. Not more than six hours, I expect." Chuuya smiled then, a wry thing at the irony of his own words. "Come on. Trust me."

"No."

They shared a grin for just a moment but it was enough, enough that Chuuya's heart felt a little lighter. Taking a deep breath he reached forward and touched his index fingers to either side of Dazai's head, just above the ears.

Just as he was about to start the spell Dazai spoke up, and when their eyes met Chuuya saw Dazai's first sign of uncertainty there. "Are they bad, Chuuya? The memories?"

"Yes." There was no point in lying. "They're horrible. I pity you. But when you wake up I'll be by your side, and if you want to talk about them I'll be there for you then, too. If you'll allow it."

A pause and then "I'll allow it." Chuuya smiled at that, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest as Dazai kept talking. "You're forgiven, asshole. Just get some sleep before I wake up, please? I don't need you passing out halfway through.. Well, whatever happens."

"Sure. Sleep tight, pet."

No more words were needed. Chuuya begun to chant. It was a simple spell and Chuuya kept eye contact with Dazai the whole time. As tired eyes began to droop Chuuya offered a comforting smile and Dazai slipped off into unconsciousness. Chuuya held the limp body close as it slumped against him, saying the final words that would finish setting the spell into effect.

When it was done he picked Dazai up carefully, teleported them both to his room. Then he frowned before sighing and teleporting them both to Dazai's room instead, because he was the man in question would feel far more comfortable waking up in his own bed. Chuuya lay Dazai's sleeping body down carefully, tucking him in before flopping onto the bed himself, truly exhausted.

He stared at Dazai for several minutes, but his face showed no signs of discomfort or disturbance. Chuuya chewed at his lip, pitying the man sleeping next to him. No doubt Dazai would be living through those horrible memories Chuuya had seen in the scars right now.

He rolled onto his back, letting his eyes close. He couldn't help Dazai - the spell simply had to work itself to conclusion. For now, there was nothing to do but to wait.

It wasn't a hard thing, to fall into sleep. Once he was there, the nightmares that visited kept him company.

* * *

Cold.

He couldn't feel it, not quite, but he could tell from the way his skin was prickling with goosebumps that his body was cold. He noted the absence of any cloth on his skin and realised that he was bare of clothes, even if he couldn't look down to see such a thing for himself.

He couldn't move at all, actually. He'd assumed it was because of the spell - he was reliving his memories, trapped in his own body that he couldn't control. He couldn't affect the memories - that wouldn't make sense.

He was starting to get the distinct impression that it was not _just_ the spell that was leaving him immobile.

He was in a room he'd never been in before, from what he could tell - well, from what he could remember. He recognised the trimmings, the neat pinewood ceilings that Mori had splurged on when the Port Mafia income had stabilized after a rough patch. Without a doubt, this was Mori's home - his base of operations and the place Dazai had lived in for a decade. Always hovering, slipping in and out but never fitting in.

A room in Mori's home that he'd never been in - not at a time he could remember. Curious.

He tried to breathe but found he couldn't even manage that. His muscles moved on their own, lungs inflating and deflating in a rhythm that Dazai had no control over. He had no influence over his own body - he was simply a spectator, looking out through his own eyes with no control, no power.

The sound of a door opening, then brisk footsteps. His body didn't turn its head to look and so Dazai didn't see who was approaching until they loomed over him. Violet eyes stared down at him. Dazai couldn't see Mori's face behind the surgical mask but he was certain the man was smiling.

"So _lovely_ of you to join me, Dazai. Not that you'll be remembering any of this once we're done."

Mori leaned away and there was the noise of movement as he pulled open drawers and placed items on trays, Dazai unable to see what any of them were. He could guess. Then Mori was back, smiling down at him again, except this time he was holding a scalpel in his hand. Ah.

"It's a shame you have to be awake for this, truly. A necessary evil, I'm afraid." Mori leaned in and the knife came down, slicing. It didn't hurt, there was just a slight tingling where it cut. Five neat slices on the inside of his arm, near the shoulder.

Chuuya had traced those scars when he'd lied to him. Mori had lied to him too, telling him they were from a mission gone wrong; A negotiation that had been met with a knife. So many scars, so many failed missions.

Had he ever failed any of them, really? How many of his scars were from Mori?

"There, that should do it."

As Mori held up his hands dark energy made physical in its potency wrapped and twined around his fingers. Several pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, then. The truth it revealed was sickening. Dazai wanted to close his eyes and escape from it all, from the experience he'd already lived through once but couldn't remember - didn't _want_ to remember, not now that he _knew_.

"Now, hold still - ah, not that you can move anyway."

Mori lowered his hand before pushing fingers into flesh, blunt nails forcing their way in under the slices he'd made in Dazai's skin. Like before the pain was detached, it didn't hurt. What _did_ hurt was the magic.

If he'd been able to he would have screamed. Instead he remained paralyzed, spread out on the surgical table without any restraints because they weren't _needed_ when he already couldn't move. The pain was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Pure energy burned as it wormed its way under his skin, into his blood. Spreading around his body as Mori forced more and _more_ of it inside him and Dazai was suddenly aware of how much there already was. It filled him, every bit of it burning in an agony Dazai couldn't put into words. There was no name for this.

It hit him in between waves of silent, immobile screaming that this must have been going on for _years_. No wonder Chuuya had called him a- a 'battery of dark energy'. He had so many scars, so much of this putrid black energy inside of him.

Chuuya - Chuuya could see that energy. How had he not taken one look at him and been disgusted? How had Chuuya seen all this through his scars and still wanted to talk to him, seek _Dazai's _forgiveness? Gods, the man had _cried_ over him, over this.

Mori twisted his fingers and the room turned white in blazing pain. He was burning, the world was burning. Then the fingers were gone and it stopped so suddenly that it might as well have been a slap to the face. He was numb again.

"There we go. Time to wipe those pesky memories, can't have my little dog running away. Not when you're so close to ready. This will be our last session - you're nice and full for me."

Dazai had no idea what that was supposed to mean. All things considered, he was too strung out from the pain to care.

* * *

Trigger Warnings: Non consensual.. procedure? Described in form of vivid flashback. It hurts. I'm hesitant to really call it a 'medical procedure' because the only medical thing is cutting a few relatively small cuts with a scalpel, but it isn't exactly mindless torture either? Just.. if you can't handle characters having pain forced upon them, this isn't the chapter for you.

* * *

_In Our Next Chapter, 'Thirty-Six Hours':_

_His body was quiet for a moment, then suddenly all the tension dropped from his shoulders. Dazai felt his own lips twitch at a smile but fall short, face remaining blank._

_"I'm going to kill you, one day."_

_The words were devoid of anger, entirely emotionless - but not without conviction. It was a true threat and Mori laughed, nodded quite seriously. "Oh precious thing, I'm sure you will one day. Not today, though."_

* * *

Welcome to: My chapter lengths are inconsistent as fuck. The second chapter didn't quite hit 3k and the last chapter was 7k and I feel like that's something that should worry me but right now - eh. Am I giving too much information away in the preview of chapter eight? Maybe, maybe. But I don't care because all the plot points are kicking in right now and I am _so ready_.

Also I am sorry for that unplanned week's break, motivation and wrist issues hit me out of nowhere so I pretty much had to take a solid week and a half off from writing. But now I'm back! Yay!

We're finally digging into the 'plot, angst, emotions and more plot' section of this fic and oooh boy am I excited. Also! Friendly reminder about my tumblr "eschatona" and my Instagram "eschatona", I'm always open to chat/answer questions about this fic/future fics etc (:


	8. 8: Thirty-Six Hours

Eight: Thirty-Six Hours

* * *

Trigger Warnings in end notes

* * *

After the thirteenth time reliving the torture Dazai begun to feel numb to even the impossible, searing pain. He began to tune it out - it was excruciating, but it was still fundamentally just pain. He was experienced in the ways of pain.

Every memory ended in the same way: Mori would announce it was time for Dazai to forget, and then his body would fall unconscious. He'd only hover in the darkness for a few moments before waking up in another memory. It seemed endless. The fourth time fingers had pushed under his skin Dazai had realised that Mori could have done this _hundreds_ of times. There was no way of knowing - he didn't remember any of it.

After that realisation, Dazai had begun to visualise how many scars there were on his body. With a number in mind he started to figure out how many cuts on average Mori was making each 'session'. It was a decent enough distraction from the pain that Chuuya had said he wouldn't feel. _Liar_. He began to divide, pain-addled mind struggling through the calculations. How many sessions would it take for all the scars to be made?

It was a struggle. The pain was distracting, unusual for him but then he'd also never experienced agony quite so intense before. His mind threw up numbers such as forty three and Dazai quickly stopped trying to work it out, but the reality of such a number had already sunk in. Still he tried to scour it from his mind. It was better not knowing, than to be faced with a number like _that_.

* * *

"How very bold of you Nakahara, trespassing on _my_ property. What, come to steal more of my subjects?"

His body didn't react to the name because to this Dazai it wasn't anything familiar yet, wasn't a name he cared about. For the first time in what must have been at least ten hours Dazai truly fought against himself, trying desperately to get his limbs to move the way he wanted them to. They stubbornly refused. His body was shuffling through papers, organising them into files to be placed in too-large cabinets.

At first the paperwork had been a nice reprieve from the same surgical table, the scalpel and the impossible pain. It had been at first a little odd to feel the presence of clothes on his skin, the slight scratch of fabrics after hours and hours of cold and nakedness. As he had appreciated the mundane of it Dazai had also wondered what was about to happen that would make Mori wipe his memories of such an ordinary task.

At first he'd assumed he was to see a confidential paper that wasn't for his eyes. Now he was starting to think it was something involving Chuuya, because _of course_ Chuuya had been making a mess of his life all along. That was just typical.

The door to Mori's study was open and words drifted to Dazai's waiting ears, even as his body continued diligently shuffling papers.

"_Bastard_. Why were you sniffing around last night, huh? You stay the fuck away from me and I don't break your incredibly crushable bones. That was our deal."

That voice. The desperation that came with hearing it hit Dazai with the force of a physical blow. Despite knowing it was useless he struggled once more against his body, silently pleading as though it could make some kind of difference. Anything.

If he could just walk into Mori's office everything would be better, everything would be _fine_ because Chuuya would understand what was happening - he'd _have_ to understand, it was _Chuuya _\- and he'd know and he'd break the spell, he'd make it all stop and Dazai would wake up back in his own body with Chuuya right there. And Chuuya, Chuuya would tell him he did well and give him a fluffy blanket and probably make him something nice to eat and-

"Our deal?" Mori laughed and Dazai found that the noise sickened him in a way it never had before. "We don't have a _deal_, Nakahara. If you must know, last night I was retrieving my dog from a - ah, let's call it a mission gone wrong. That's what I'll let him think, at least."

Dazai felt his body come to a standstill at that, papers clutched tightly in his hands as his younger self raced to make sense of the words. He did, too, Dazai now remembered. He figured it out, if only for a precious minute and a half. Then Chuuya left and Mori walked out of the study, took one look at Dazai and sighed, called him 'too smart for his own good.' Then Mori wiped his memories just like that, the same spell he used at the end of every torturous magic infusion session.

So Dazai listened. He listened and memorised every word Chuuya spoke, because if this ninety seconds was all he would have to get him through the next thirty sessions then he was going to cling on to every damn second of it.

* * *

Dazai felt as though he were floating, but it wasn't peaceful. Not like floating underwater was, enveloped by the comforting pressure of an ocean and surrounded by the bliss of nothing, at peace for seventy seconds before the drowning truly begun.

No, this was nothing at all like the perfection that came before drowning had been. This was painful, a sharp jagged pain with every rattled breath his brain forced him to take. He was so sure that his eyes were open but he could see nothing, feel nothing except pain. Sometimes it felt like nothing at all but then it would become sharp, a cluster of knives embedded in his skin. Then the pain would disappear, but it was hard to relax knowing that the sharpness of it would return any moment.

Something had gone wrong. Before everything had gone black he'd seen the panic in Mori's eyes. Maybe the man had gone too far. He'd made more cuts this time, inserted seven fingers. That was more than usual.

Something _had_ gone wrong, then. That was the logical conclusion and he was beyond exhausted, now. Too far gone to try and explore any other path of reasoning. Even if he tried Dazai didn't think he'd get very far.

He just wanted to sleep. It had been at least twenty hours by now, he was sure of that. Why hadn't Chuuya woken him up yet? Could he? Could he be woken up before the spell was over? Dazai didn't know and he didn't try to think, muscles contracting and body gasping, the sound wet and thick with blood.

Too far. Mori had definitely gone too far this time.

* * *

"So it was you, then?"

Dazai wasn't sure when this was, what he was even accusing Mori of. They were in Mori's office - the man was signing papers and Dazai had just walked in and interrupted him. Dazai watched the scene through eyes that were just a little closer to the floor than was comfortable. Mori placed his paperwork on the desk, raising an eyebrow. That look meant nothing good.

"My dear boy, you'll have to be more specific. What, exactly, was me?"

"You killed her." The words didn't tumble out, they weren't rushed or a half hearted accusation. His voice was a measured, steady thing for someone so young - Dazai wasn't sure but he could guess he was around fifteen here. He didn't know who he was accusing Mori of killing but his younger self had thought this out, was sure of it. Was probably right too, from the amusement smile dancing across Mori's face.

"I did, did I? How did you figure that one out?"

Hands clenched in little fists at his side but when he spoke his voice remained steady, even. Impressive for someone so young. "The cut was too thin to be _him_. Wrong knife. Only a precision instrument could cut like that."

Mori leaned forwards at his desk, clearly intrigued by this turn of events. "Oh? You were just a child, I didn't expect you to remember such details. Although I suppose I should have expected that from you."

Dazai's body was quiet for a moment, but he felt the moment that all the tension suddenly dropped from his shoulders. He felt his own lips twitch at a smile but fall short, face and eyes both remaining blank.

"I'm going to kill you, one day."

The words were devoid of anger. The words were in fact entirely emotionless - but not without conviction. It was a true threat and Mori laughed, nodding quite seriously even as he smiled. It was somehow comforting and mocking all at once. "Oh precious thing, I'm sure you will one day. Not today, though."

Mori stood, walked towards him. Dazai felt his body tense but it didn't back away even a step as Mori reached out, placed a hand on his shoulder. Dazai was proud of his younger self for not flinching.

"For today, you're going to forget this conversation ever happened. See you in an hour, Dazai."

His body dropped violently sideways. The world was black before he could reach the floor, but Dazai was left with a lingering suspicion that Mori didn't bother to catch him.

* * *

"Is the paralyser really necessary?"

The first session. This had to be it, Dazai could feel it in the uncertainty of his own movements. This wasn't routine to his body, not yet. Mori smiled at the question, looking every bit an innocent man and not as though he were about to torture a boy.

That's what he was, here. A boy. Dazai reasoned that this body here was fifteen, sixteen at the most. The time where he'd first started failing missions, accumulating scars.

"Let us try it without then, if that's what you desire."

In that moment Dazai pitied his younger self. The child didn't yet know how to decipher what those words meant, what he was about to experience. Instead the boy lay himself out on the table, all clothes off.

That wasn't unusual. That was, in fact, something Dazai had grown used to quite quickly when it came to Mori.

The scalpel came and went, cutting just one slice into his stomach. He felt the tensing of muscles and the cringe at the pain but otherwise his younger self didn't react. He remained still on the table, eager to please. _Fool_. Mori smiled down at him and Dazai knew that if his body had known to look he would have seen that the hand hidden out of view was amassing black energy around a finger. Instead his eyes were focused on that smile; a twisted thing, every bit of it condescending and sadistic.

Yet another thing his younger self hadn't yet learnt.

The finger plunged under his skin, infecting him with darkness for the first time - Dazai screamed. His younger self screamed too, body jolting up on the table and only pushing that finger deeper inside as a result. The screaming turned to wailed shrieking. He felt his eyes burn, the wetness of tears clouding his vision. He wasn't at all surprised. Dazai wasn't sure there was a man alive who wouldn't cry at a pain like this.

After too many seconds Mori withdrew the finger and wiped the blood off with a cloth, his smile unchanged. "Do you see now Dazai, why we use the paralyzer?" He felt himself nod. His body was quick to draw its knees close, arms curling around them as though that could protect him, could stop Mori. That was foolish. Nothing could stop Mori.

Except Chuuya. Chuuya, maybe, could stop Mori.

* * *

"Mama?" His own voice called soft in his ears and Dazai felt something painful twist inside him as he realised in an instant where he was, _when_ he was. This was _then_. The night his whole world had fallen apart.

Small feet pattered down the stairs as the boy received no answer to his call. The house was dark - the clock read three in the morning, no time for a little boy to be awake but he was thirsty and he wanted juice. Dazai remembered it well. He'd thought to go and get his Mother, and she would get him juice.

Shifting lights from the living room. The sounds of television, tinny and obnoxious. He'd always favoured books. The boy padded over to the room, not yet knowing to question why his beloved Mama would be awake at such an hour. Those weren't the concerns of a child. He just wanted juice.

Just wanted juice and yet he was met with blood.

The instant he saw it Dazai knew something was wrong, because this one was a sight he'd never been able to scour from his mind. His Mother's throat, hacked open with a chef's knife - the all purpose household Santoku. The massive, messy slashes in her neck - as the years passed Dazai had never been able to think on it without feeling overwhelmed with nausea, no matter how many murders he committed himself. His kills were just as gruesome, maybe more so, and yet he just couldn't forget.

No, he'd never forget this sight. Which was how Dazai knew, even as a body far too small for the mind it was currently holding dropped to its knees and _wailed_. Dazai knew that the scene before him wasn't right - because there was no deep, horrific slash to his Mother's neck, leaving her face resting in red, a pool of blood that seeped into the floorboards.

No. Instead there was one single, neat cut to the side of the neck. Thin, precise. Effective.

Clearly made with a scalpel.

* * *

Chuuya was expecting to wake up when Dazai did. Instead, he'd woken up nine hours after performing the spell and Dazai had _still _been unconscious next to him. Chuuya sighed, mouth tightening into a grimace as he sat cross legged on the bed, stared down at Dazai's sleeping body. He'd assured Dazai that the spell would take no more than six hours.

_Another lie. They just keep coming._

He really had expected it to take six hours at the very most. Dazai had to live through every memory the spell unlocked or altered, all in real time. This prolonged sleep meant that the spell had unlocked far more memories than Chuuya had anticipated.

Biting at his lip, Chuuya remembered just how many scars were on Dazai's body. He'd only had to touch a few around his neck and shoulder to see the experiments Mori had performed on Dazai. He'd thought he'd just gotten lucky with his selection, that many of the other scars would be from something - _anything_ \- else.

In hindsight that had been a foolish hope. Most of the scars looked the same. Same length and width, same neat cut. They'd all been entrance and exit points for energy too, when Chuuya had performed that failure of an experiment on Dazai's 'magic'.

Chuuya knew now that it wasn't Dazai's magic. He was trying not to think too hard about it.

The truth felt like a lump in his throat as he tried to swallow it. All those scars were from Mori feeding energy into Dazai. He had _so many_ scars, and in the flashes Chuuya had seen Mori had only been working with four of them at a time.

Four scars out of hundreds. That hadn't been the first or last time Mori had done _that_ to Dazai. No wonder Dazai was still asleep - he had to live through every minute of it, all over again.

Chuuya took a deep breath, forcefully removed his hand from where it had clenched in the bedsheets. Dazai couldn't feel the pain, at least. That was a relief. Having the magic of another being inside you was the worst pain imaginable. When Chuuya had taken Arahabaki inside him he hadn't been able to move for _days_. It had faded to nothing afterwards, but Chuuya had spent those three days in solid agony.

Mori would be feeding in less magic than a deity. The pain would disappear for Dazai once Mori stopped forcing more energy in. That would explain how Dazai had been entirely unaware of these experiments once they were removed from his memory. Nonetheless he was untrained, not a Mage; storing that amount of foreign dark magic inside him would have caused fatigue. Would have taken a huge toll on the body.

Chuuya sighed for what felt like the fifth time in as many minutes, running a hand over his face, trying to scrub the sleep from his eyes. Of course, Dazai would have likely just chalked the fatigue up to an effect of the emotional numbness that seemed to plague him.

How much of that numbness was linked to the magic? How much of it was just trauma? Chuuya frowned, looking once again at Dazai's sleeping body. He'd have to teach Dazai how to handle all that magic one day, just a little bit. Maybe then Dazai would be able to feel _human_ again.

* * *

Chuuya startled as Dazai finally, _finally_ snapped up in bed. He turned, staring in surprise as he saw the tears brimming in Dazai's eyes, sliding down his face. He looked so horribly vulnerable in that moment and Chuuya wanted nothing more than to hold him close, but he felt rooted to his spot on the bed.

Thirty six hours. Dazai had been reliving his past for thirty six hours, and Chuuya had told him it would only take _six_.

"He killed my parents."

That broken whisper and then it was _Dazai_ hugging _Chuuya_, lunging at him and wrapping his arms tight around him. Chuuya shifted to try and make room, Dazai moving so he was practically sat in Chuuya's lap and hiding his face in the shoulder of an old, well worn t-shirt that Chuuya hadn't bothered to change out of after he'd woken up.

Chuuya bought a hand up before his more logical brain could stop him, quickly establishing a gentle pattern of stroking through Dazai's hair. He was struck by just how soft it was, all silky and smooth and - ah, of course it was. It smelt of Chuuya's shampoo _and _conditioner. Dazai didn't seem to mind the stroking, keeping his face safely tucked into Chuuya's shoulder. His tears were growing a steady damp patch in the cloth.

"Dazai." His voice was soft as he spoke, a gentle murmur. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dazai shook his head but started talking anyway. Perhaps Chuuya would have laughed at that, if what he was hearing wasn't so utterly heartbreaking. "Mori killed Mama when I was twelve. Then I.. I killed Father, because I thought it was him that killed Mama. That's.. That's something he would have done, I think. But it was Mori. It was Mori all along."

Chuuya didn't say anything because there really wasn't anything to say. He just kept running his fingers through Dazai's hair, his other arm snaking around Dazai's back to hold him closer. Dazai was still crying - Chuuya could feel it in the tremble of his back, and in the way tears had soaked through his shirt, sticky on his shoulder. Dazai started talking again after a loud, wet sniffle.

"I figured it out and everything. But he made me forget, changed the memory so I couldn't work it out again. I'd forgotten her face, you know? I could remember the cuts, the blood and everything but not- not her face."

Dazai pulled back then, eyes red and puffy as he smiled up at Chuuya. It was a watery, sad thing but it was sincere enough that it broke his heart all over again.

"Thank you, Chuuya. Your spell let me see her. I'll never forget again."

Chuuya took a deep breath and nodded, plastering a smile onto his own face because he needed to be strong now, for Dazai. "I know you won't." He pulled a cloth out of the air, carefully wiped the tears from Dazai's cheeks. The man let him and Chuuya smiled again once he was done. "There. You remembered the rest, yeah? The experiments?"

Dazai laughed then, but the noise was a bitter, broken thing. Chuuya reached out to touch his face in concern but Dazai shook his head, looking away. "Really, how could I not remember? It took - what, fifty hours? It felt like forever. It _hurt_."

"Thirty six." Chuuya quietly confirmed, before his eyes widened as the reality of Dazai's words hit him. "Wait, you felt it? Dazai you weren't supposed to feel a _second_ of that, I didn't.. I'm so sorry." His hands clenched tight and he felt nails dig into his own palms. Anger. Anger because he'd failed; this was never supposed to happen. Dazai didn't deserve to feel that pain, no one did.

But Dazai just shook his head again, sighing and flopping back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "No, it's fine. There's no way you could have known." A few moments of silence, then. Chuuya watched Dazai, awkward, not knowing quite what to say now. Instead Dazai spoke, turning to look up at Chuuya. The dim light of the room made the tears in his eyes glint and shine "Chuuya.. What has he done to me?"

Chuuya stood, because like all things concerning Mori that wasn't a question that had any simple answers. So instead of explaining right away he held out a hand to Dazai, who rolled his eyes but accepted the offered help, pulling himself to sit up in the bed with a groan.

"I'll make dinner for us and explain then, mm? You must be hungry." Dazai nodded at that, but as Chuuya took one of his hands in his own to teleport them both away he realised that Dazai was trembling. He worried at his lip in thought before making up his mind, pulling Dazai close against his chest. There was no resistance.

"Okay, change of plans yeah? I'm going to feed you some of my magic. It's pure energy - it'll make you feel a lot better, less shaky."

Dazai stared at him, a small frown of uncertainty wrinkling at his nose. It was adorable, but now was not the time for such thoughts. "Will it hurt?"

Chuuya winced at the question, recalling the flashes of scenes he'd scene through Dazai's scars. Mori had cut him open and forced magic into him and it must have been _agonising_. "No, it won't be anything at all like.. That. I promise." A hesitant nod and Chuuya closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to Dazai's. It took concentration to make sure he transferred the perfect amount of energy - enough to revitalise him but not enough to overwhelm his untrained body.

Chuuya knew the transfer had worked when Dazai gasped, jerked away as though he'd been burnt by Chuuya's touch. His eyes were wide with the momentary terror of a man faced with something entirely inhumane and ungodly.

"What the fuck was that?" Dazai's voice was panicked, a little breathless and Chuuya couldn't help but chuckle. He clapped a hand on Dazai's shoulder and teleported them both to the kitchen, turning to the cupboards to gather ingredients as he begun to explain his own power.

"_That_ was the lovely little gremlin called Arahabaki." the deity in question growled at Chuuya's insults, the low grumble filling the room. Chuuya glanced at Dazai who was still standing in the same spot they'd teleported into, staring at Chuuya in silent demand of a further explanation. Chuuya rolled his eyes at that but didn't protest - in part because Dazai looked as though he were barely managing to hold himself together. The distraction from thoughts of the thirty-six hours of torture would probably do him some good.

"He's a minor God of calamity and destruction. I, uh, I fought him and won, so now he resides inside me. His energy combined itself with my magic until they became one and the same. You would have felt a glimpse of him a moment ago. But you do feel better, right?"

A hesitant nod from Dazai and Chuuya smiled, turning back to the kitchen counters and starting to dice up some chicken. He was too hungry to cook anything fancy right now - he hadn't eaten since he'd put Dazai to sleep, and that had been a full earth rotation and a half ago.

"What did you do before you fought the.. Arahabahrki, then?"

Chuuya paused at that before continuing to work, a secret smile blooming on his face as he threw the diced chicken in a pan, magically enhancing its heat. Nobody tended to ask about his life. Oda.. Oda had, Yosano had once or twice too, but that was about it. It was a nice change, an excuse to talk about the many memories he kept inside his head.

"Arahabaki. Way before him I was an apprentice to a Shaman, a great healer and master of realities. I was pretty damn good at it myself. Arahabaki made my magic too dark for any kind of healing though, so now I'm a Sorcerer instead." He threw the chicken in the pan with some butter and strong seasoning before turning to look at Dazai.

Dazai was staring back, seeming to be genuinely interested in Chuuya's past. That was.. Rare. Then again, it was also very rare Chuuya told anyone about his past - the life of Mages were not to be shared with common civilians. Chuuya supposed he might as well share the significance of this with Dazai. If his would-be assassin was going to end their relationship in a betrayal, it might as well be a spectacular one.

"There's not a soul alive aside from you that knows I have Arahabaki, although that bastard Mori might have figured it out by now. Look, I need you to know that- I'm sorry I lied to you about the scars. I'm not.. People don't _trust_ me, it's just not a thing that happens. I wasn't expecting it. I'll never do anything like that to you again, okay? I promise."

Chuuya wanted to turn around more than anything, look back at his cooking chicken so he didn't have to bare himself like this while meeting Dazai's eyes. Those eyes that could be so soft and bright now looked detached and considering. When Dazai spoke a moment later there was nothing personal or sincere there, only an analytical coolness to his voice. "A promise means nothing from a liar."

The words cut deep and Chuuya forced himself to nod, even as he was overwhelmed with the inexplicable sudden urge to cry. He really had messed things up with Dazai forever, then. There was no coming back from this.

Then Dazai broke out into a smile and all at once the light returned to his eyes, his face. Chuuya felt his breath stutter in his chest at the beauty of it. How could someone who had just been through hell look so beautiful?

"But I've decided to trust you anyway. You just trusted me by telling me about your past, didn't you? You've shown me a lot of things, like kindness. I might as well repay you the favour. Forgiveness can _always_ be earnt, Chuuya. You've earned it."

"Thank you." It was the only response to give. Dazai smiled and Chuuya smiled back. They stood there in the kitchen, the trained Assassin who had learnt the ways of emotions and the legendary Sorcerer who had been taught humility.

Chuuya realised in that moment that in the past month, Dazai had been giving just as much of himself to him as he had been giving to Dazai. At first Chuuya had thought that Dazai had been the only one growing - the only one that really needed to grow. He realised now with sudden clarity that he had been mistaken.

"Chuuya! Your chicken's burning."

"_Fuck._" Chuuya spun around to look at the chicken, but it was already far past salvageable. He'd used magical means to increase the heat of his stove because he was hungry and he wanted food _now_. Unfortunately, that same magic had now burnt the chicken to a crisp.

He turned back to Dazai, refusing to spare the disgrace of a chicken another look. "Right. Food, then we'll talk about all this experimentation crap. Good plan?"

"Good plan." Dazai confirmed. Without another word Chuuya stalked over, grabbing Dazai's wrist and teleporting them both to China without further ado.

* * *

"I can't believe Chuuya gets his Chinese takeout from actual China. You have entirely too much power, did you know?"

Chuuya laughed at that one, flopping onto his beanbag and pulling out the large tub of to-go chicken chow mein he'd gotten rush ordered from his favourite restaurant in China. "I fought a whole God, it's only fair I get the benefits! Or do you want me to return that ginger scallion crab?"

Dazai and his bowl of crab went quiet at that and Chuuya flashed a victory smile, pulling some napkins out the air and chucking a few at Dazai's head, stopping them from flopping all over the place with a moment of well centered gravity manipulation.

"Right. Food. Then we can talk about Mori and his bullshit."

He looked up to check Dazai's response. He worried that the mention of Mori might dampen Dazai's appetite but the man was nodding enthusiastically, speaking around a mouthful of crab.

"Yes, food. Mori can wait."

* * *

Trigger Warnings: Same as last time - pain due to a procedure that Dazai didn't consent to. Also, someone's throat is cut. The act isn't described, just the aftermath.

* * *

In Our Next Chapter, 'It doesn't exist yet. I'm doing my best';

This is a super busy week for me so not 100% sure I'll be able to get the next chapter written in time, but I'll let you all know if there isn't going to be an update by posting on my tumblr 'eschatona'. Wouldn't want to leave you awesome people hanging.

* * *

Disclaimer: The depiction of Dazai's parents here aren't representative at all of the real life Dazai Osamu / Shuuji Tsushima's parents.

* * *

These two are finally getting their shit together and it makes me so happy. Chuuya's actually realising he isn't the fully functional human being he pretends to be and Dazai's actually learning to depend on someone. Brilliant. I love them.

Note: Dazai is a wee bit more traumatised than he's letting on right now, he's just hiding it well because to him it's more important to get shit done ie Mori than to let himself focus on what's happened. Don't worry, it'll come back to bite him eventually

Also Chuuya's speech patterns are honestly hilarious to me. The 'fuck' and 'I, uh's mixed in with his fancy shmancy vocabulary and slightly too formal sentence structure is all brilliant and very much for a reason, you guys just don't get to know what that reason is yet (; although a few of you have figured it out already !

Also sorry these last two chapters have been a bit shorter than that massive 7k one, but it looks as though around 4-5k will be the chapter length from now on. It's the longest I can produce every week without burning out and messing up my wrists like I did with the 7k

I love you all so much, your brilliant comments give me motivation to keep writing and put everything I have into this story 3 I really doubt I could do this without the support I'm getting. So thank you again !

Sorry this was a long a/n I just love these boys and talking about these boys so I tend to ramble


	9. 9: A Time Longer

Nine: A Time Longer

* * *

Trigger Warnings in the end notes

* * *

The rich flavours of crab and ginger hadn't been dampened by the knowledge of what was to come when he finished eating, something that Dazai found himself glad for. The crab was good, better than any he'd had before. He wanted to savour it, take his time, but the pressure of the looming conversation left him eating just a little faster than was comfortable.

Once Dazai and Chuuya had both finished their meals Chuuya teleported the empty containers off to the kitchen. Dazai didn't spare much thought for how the house would likely take care of cleaning and disposing of the containers - he had more important things to think about, now.

For several seconds Chuuya stared at him and Dazai stared back, not knowing where to begin. Should he talk first? Would Chuuya? The silence stretched for almost thirty seconds before Chuuya broke it with a heavy sigh. He stood and walked over to the sofa Dazai was sat on, taking a seat next to him. Dazai turned to look at him, the both of them sitting cross legged and facing each other, no more than a meter apart. Dazai felt as though the closeness would likely be needed - whatever Chuuya was about to tell him was a private matter, not one to be discussed across a room.

Chuuya cleared his throat before sighing again - the noise more frustrated this time - and glancing sideways at the empty fireplace. That didn't help Dazai feel any better. Whatever was about to come would surely be bad if Chuuya was acting like this about it. Dazai felt the urge to break the weight of the heavy silence bubble up, only for the desire to catch in his throat. The pressure of it settled heavy on his chest as Chuuya remained quiet, setting the fireplace ablaze with a flick of his wrist instead of speaking.

As he bathed in the warm glow of the fire Dazai felt his muscles relaxing despite himself. He looked over at the burning hearth, noticing the curious flickers of red and blue and pink among the flames. A little green there, too. It must have been enchanted in some way because Dazai felt the heat of it spreading out across the room far quicker than was natural. A little more tension dropped from his shoulders and he decided that this was it, he was going to be the one to break the silence.

"So. Mori."

Chuuya took a deep, sharp breath at that but nodded, eyes closed for a moment before he raised his head and met Dazai's gaze, a weak smile pulling at his lips. "Yes. Indeed, Mori. That _bastard_."

Dazai found himself laughing then. Chuuya looked as surprised as Dazai felt at the noise that left his lips, but afterwards Dazai just smiled. Chuuya's anger was almost childish sometimes and that was funny, so he'd laughed. Dazai felt that he was slowly starting to get the hang of emotions, but with them came his bodies' strange, sometimes nonsensical reactions. He struggled still to really understand them, at times. Not always.

At the very least, Chuuya looked as though he wanted an explanation to the laughter.

"It's just.. You really seem to hate him. More than I do, even."

Chuuya shrugged, but his eyebrows were still drawn together in angry irritation. Dazai had realised about a week ago that Chuuya always made that kind of expression when Mori was mentioned. "I dunno. It's just.. Deeply irritating that I _know_ I could crush him, he's just.. slippery. I can't seem to get hold of him! It frustrates me."

Dazai nodded in slow contemplation, smiling again after a moment. The smiles were coming more easily these days, almost naturally. That.. that was something that would make Oda happy. That was something that Chuuya had given him. "I suppose I've never really felt like there's anything I could _do_ to stop Mori. It must be.. Nice, having that kind of power."

There was no hesitation as Chuuya nodded again, the starts of a smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, it's certainly _nice_. But you're a lot more capable than you think, pet. Mori was.. He told you that you failed all those missions, right? Gave him something to blame the scars on. But you didn't. As far as I'm aware you never even failed _one._"

Dazai shifted awkwardly in place at that, not sure quite how he felt about it. He'd realised a long time ago that the amount of missions he'd supposedly failed didn't make any kind of logical sense. He was better than that, his _reputation_ was better than that. And yet.. He'd never dug too deep into it, had found it wiser to leave that particular can of worms alone. As soon as he'd start to think about it he'd always felt as though his world had started to unravel. So he'd just.. Stopped thinking.

His back was aching. With a frown Dazai shuffled about and after a bit of maneuvering found himself sprawled out across the sofa, head placed carefully in Chuuya's lap. Dazai looked up at the surprised eyes that stared down at him, the pretty blue-grey that glinted in the firelight.

"Is this okay?" His voice was soft, just loud enough to be audible and Chuuya nodded, placing a tentative hand in Dazai's hair after a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, this is.. Fine. This is fine."

All things considered it was a bold move for Dazai to make. Sure, he'd hugged Chuuya before but that had been.. Well, he'd been panicking then. He wasn't panicking now. Not.. not yet, at least. But this.. Dazai found he liked the closeness. It made him feel safe which was _ridiculous_ because he was perfectly capable of protecting himself.. But still. This was nice. He'd decided that perhaps it wasn't so bad to let himself enjoy a closeness like this.

Again, Dazai found himself struck with an inexplicable certainty that this would make Oda proud. He smiled at the thought and Chuuya smiled back at him.

"Mori was always looking to try new things." Dazai felt himself tensing up again at the mention of Mori, but a gentle hand brushing through his hair almost absentmindedly was all it took to sooth the starts of panic away. "Stupid, dangerous things, with no regards for anyone's safety. He was a mad scientist, quite literally. His favourite subject was always experimentation on the human body."

Another flare of panic but it felt distant this time; the heat of the fire numbed it, shaped the feeling into something softer and more manageable. Dazai shifted his focus to the rhythmic sensation of Chuuya's fingers running through his hair, brushing their way through soft strands of brown.

"You're full of dark magic but you're not a Mage. That was bothering me since the day you arrived - I told you as much. Well. I don't know how much of it you figured out from the memories, but Mori used you as a subject. Essentially he turned you into a walking battery of energy, the kind used for dark magic."

Dazai was quiet for a moment while he processed that. Chuuya didn't say anything else, giving Dazai the time to think it all through. "Okay. I think I get it, but.. I didn't remember it? Not until.. Well, you know. Can you explain to me what exactly you did, again?"

Chuuya nodded his agreement and shifted them both to get his other arm free, reaching behind him to pick up a glass of wine from off the top of the arm of the sofa. Dazai was _certain_ that the glass hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Right so, Mage's generally specialise in one of two disciplines of magic. I'm a bit of an exception because of Arahabaki, but when I started out I focused on manipulating gravity because it was fun, then some healing and other Shaman stuff. A better example would be an Enchantress I know. She specialises in charms, so affixing spells to items. Do you get it?"

"Not really." Chuuya cracked a grin at that but didn't seem to be bothered. Dazai was glad - he worried sometimes, that Chuuya expected him to understand more about magic than he did.

"Ah, whatever. It's confusing. Mori chose the left hand path, which is.. It's frowned upon. Taboo magic and all that shit. He's always specialised in stuff focused around the manipulation of the mind. It's dark magic, controlling others. It fascinates him."

Dazai fought down the sudden wave of nausea that crashed over him, asking a question to distract himself. "Did he ever try to use it on you?"

Chuuya paused at that before nodding slowly, taking a long sip of his wine before he spoke. "Yeah, actually. He tried to get inside my head once so I, uh, I put him through a wall. Several walls. He definitely would've died if he hadn't healed himself."

"Mori can heal himself?" Dazai hadn't really expected that one. He thought back to how Chuuya had said he'd lost his own ability to heal when he'd taken in Arahabaki. He'd assumed that Mori's dark magic wouldn't have been able to heal anything, either.

Chuuya was quick to correct that misconception. "Yeah, he can heal. It's different for different types of Mages. When I was a Shaman I healed by channeling the power of a certain God through my body. That turned my magic into healing energy, temporarily at least. Warlocks like Mori don't tend to have any good connections with a God, so they use their own soul to heal. It's messy. Everytime they heal they destroy a little bit of their soul."

Dazai nodded, thinking that maybe that explained a lot about Mori. He wondered how many times the man had destroyed bits of his soul to heal himself. He was the Boss of the Port Mafia - someone like that must have had reason to heal themselves more than a few times.

Maybe Mori didn't even have a soul, anymore. That'd explain a lot, too.

"So. Mori.. he messed with my head? Changed my memories?"

Chuuya took the change of topic in stride, starting to explain. "Yes. you'll remember it for yourself now, but he'd experiment on you after missions, when your body was too exhausted to put up any kind of fight. Magic, though.. Magic _always_ scars. So he'd have to tell you the scars were from failed missions even though you were far too skilled to fail at such trivial things."

Dazai raised an eyebrow at the words and at what sounded like the note of indignant pride to Chuuya's voice. "I failed to assassinate you, though. That was supposed to be a 'trivial' mission, too."

Dazai felt something deep in his chest warm at Chuuya's laugh, the man waving him off. "Mm, but I'm a special case. You're very skilled, pet. Mori knew that. He told his enemies you were the great unbeatable black dog of the Mafia, all while convincing you you'd failed missions badly enough to end up with so many scars."

Now that Chuuya laid it out like that, Dazai realised that Mori never could have kept up the ruse for much longer. Another year maybe and Dazai would have figured it out - would no longer be able to ignore it, not when it was so obvious. No wonder Mori had sent him off to Chuuya when he had. Dazai let his eyes close, focused in on the feeling of Chuuya's fingers still gently brushing through his hair. He needed time to process.

Fifteen minutes later and Dazai spoke up again, just as Chuuya was finishing off the last of his glass of wine. "I was awake during the experiments." He felt Chuuya's muscle's tense at the points their bodies were touching. Dazai looked up at him, unsurprised at the anger burning in Chuuya's eyes. "They're in the past, but.. They're unpleasant to suddenly be faced with. The pain, and.. All of it."

A deep, steady inhale from Chuuya above him, and Dazai knew that that was Chuuya trying to quell his own anger. He still found it strange, how protective Chuuya got over him when it came to Mori. It was.. Unusual, but not unwelcome. It reminded him of Odasaku's concern, except Chuuya actually had the power to stand up to Mori without being sent off to die for it.

Dazai frowned at his own thoughts, not liking the hollowness they left in his gut. '_Grief'_, his mind supplied. Reluctantly he accepted the emotion, even if it hurt to. He missed Oda.

Chuuya hummed thoughtfully, voicing an idea after a moment "I could always put the memories away again, I suppose. They don't need to stay if you don't want them to."

"You can.. do that?" Dazai hadn't even considered that to be a possibility. He stared up at Chuuya, who was gazing off into the fire, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

"A long time ago I studied the teachings of the Skyfather. I learnt to pierce the veil of the physical world, of a person's reality. I haven't done it in some time, but I'm sure I'd be able to do it for you if you wanted."

Dazai thought about it. Thought about how nice it would be, to not have to know. Then he thought about what that would mean for him - he'd be back to square one, with no idea of what Mori had done to him, what was inside him. He sighed and turned his head towards the fireplace, staring at the flames that were too pink and green to ever pass as natural.

"No, I should know. I don't want to forget what Mori's done, what he _is_. I always knew he was an evil bastard, but this.." He frowned, troubled. "Was my body not enough for him? He had to go and mess up my mind, too?"

A gentle hand running through his hair was enough to lull Dazai back to calm, but the outrage still simmered. In some small way he felt betrayed, which was ridiculous because he'd never really expected anything less from Mori. He was the kind to keep taking and taking until there was nothing left but an empty shell. To see how far he could push things, because he found it fascinating when the things inevitably broke.

"I can imagine how you're feeling. I felt.. Violated, in a way, when Arahabaki entered my body. I'd chosen it but it still felt like there was something foreign there, invading my being. Something.. Something you can't escape, because it's inside you."

Dazai nodded to himself. That about summed it up, really. He looked back up at Chuuya, managing a half smile "I could always just kill myself." His delivery was half hearted and the joke fell flat. Chuuya didn't even laugh, only sighed again and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the arm of the sofa.

"If I had it my way you'd never have to see that horrible man again.. Would you like that?"

"I suppose." Dazai frowned in troubled thought, staring up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the patterns there as he tried to transform his feelings into words."You.. Have given me more than he ever has, in far less time than I've known him. I suppose I'll just.. Wait for him to topple dead of old age, and _then_ run away from you."

Chuuya did laugh then, eyes twinkling with amusement as he looked down at Dazai. Dazai tried hard not to sneeze as a few strands of Chuuya's long hair tickled at his nose. "No luck there, pet. Mages.. Well, my lifespan is actually indefinite thanks to Arahabaki, but Mori.. eh, I'd say he has at least a couple more centuries left in him. Magic changes a person all the way down to a biological level."

Dazai sat up quickly, moved by a sudden surge of panic. Chuuya stared at him, openly confused by Dazai's reaction and a little shocked by his sudden withdrawal. Dazai was too busy panicking to feel bad. "What about me? I've got all that energy inside me, earlier you said I'm practically a 'battery'!"

Chuuya frowned at him, forehead creasing in thought "I suppose.. Yes, I think that'd alter your lifespan by a century or so, but it sh- Dazai, Dazai look at me. Why are you crying? Dazai?"

Dazai didn't even know why he was crying about this, not really. As a matter of principle he didn't _cry_. Not if he could help it. But he'd found himself so suddenly and completely overwhelmed that the tears had just started and he didn't seem to be able to stop them.

"Chuuya." His voice was panicked to his own ears - panicked and desperate and _wet_. "I can barely stand the thought of living another few years, let alone _centuries_."

* * *

"I.. you're suicidal?" The revelation had completely shocked Chuuya, but in hindsight it should have been obvious. Dazai's life had been a shit show so far, of course he wanted an out. Chuuya understood, but it was still so painfully uncomfortable to hear. He felt Arahabaki stir restlessly inside him, a low growl that Dazai winced at rumbling through the room. Chuuya internally shushed the beast, but he could feel it's worry resonating inside him. Dazai was _his_. He certainly wasn't permitted to kill himself.

Chuuya grit his teeth at the thoughts, trying to clear his mind of Arahabaki's influence. The beast had grown more and more active recently, probably because Chuuya had been talking about it to Dazai. _Nosey bastard_.

"Yes, I suppose suicidial is certainly a word for it." Dazai's voice was cold and he was staring off into the fire, wouldn't meet Chuuya's eyes. Chuuya's lap felt cold and empty now that Dazai had moved. "There is no joy in living, Chuuya. I thought that for quite some time."

"..Thought?" Chuuya couldn't keep the tentative hope from his voice at that and Dazai shrugged, still not looking at him. That was fine. Dazai didn't have to look at him, Chuuya was just glad he was talking at all.

"Sometimes things will come along and break the monotony of living. That makes things bearable. But those 'things' always get boring or leave eventually. You're.. You're interesting, your house is interesting. But you'll get bored of me one day, yeah? Pets can't last forever."

Chuuya rolled his eyes at that because _of course_ Dazai had assumed he'd just kick him out one day. Yeah right. He wasn't about to tolerate that kind of self deprecating nonsense...

A thought. The idea sparked in his mind and Chuuya quickly decided that it was a _wonderful_ one, a brilliant grin lighting up his face as he reached out and gently turned Dazai's head so the man could see him, see that he was serious.

"Well when you get bored of being my pet, how about you become my apprentice instead? You've got all that energy inside you, you might as well put it to good use. Make it yours."

Dazai stared at him for several seconds, seemingly taken entirely by surprise if his expression was anything to go by. Then his features shifted into something more thoughtful. Se seemed to contemplate Chuuya's suggestion for a few moments more before shrugging, but Chuuya didn't miss the hint of a smile playing on Dazai's lips.

"I suppose I'll consider it. Mm, is Chuuya saying that I should live with him foreeever?"

Chuuya laughed at that one, glad Dazai's mood seemed to have improved. The last thing he wanted was for Dazai to end up immersed in his own misery like he'd been back at the Port Mafia. "There are worse people to spend eternity with, I suppose"

Their eyes met. Chuuya was aware of the unnamed tension sparking in the air between them but Dazai's eyes were soft, gentle things. Dazai smiled and Chuuya found himself captivated "Are we going to keep dancing around whatever 'this' is forever, Chuuya?"

Chuuya returned the smile, a small, thoughtful noise catching in the back of his throat. "Perhaps not forever. Certainly for a little while longer, mm?"

Dazai's smile seemed to soften further at that. "Yeah. Good." He murmured. Without another word Dazai slipped off the couch and stretched with a soft groan, before extending a hand to Chuuya.

Chuuya took it.

* * *

Trigger Warning: Suicidal ideation discussed for a few lines.

* * *

Guys I am so so sorry that I dissapeared for a week and am now only giving you this short as fuck chapter. I know it's short, I just really love this chapter so I don't want to add a load of unnecessary filler to bolster it out (': and realistically I don't even have the time to write much more

They've finally acknowledged that there's /something/ going on between them! Yay! Also Dazai is finally getting a solid grip on emotions I'm so so proud of him.

Next chapter should definitely be a good bit longer so stay tuned for that !


	10. 10: The Inevitable Day

10 : The Inevitable Day

* * *

Another month passed without much affair.

Chuuya liked to think that Dazai had recovered just fine from the memories he'd recovered. It was easier to look at Dazai and see a happy man. He did _seem_ happy. He smiled - he didn't give them as easily as Chuuya did, but that just made the rarer moments even more special. Dazai still laughed and made stupid jokes and was just the same as always, brighter even. That's what Chuuya wanted to believe.

But he couldn't. He'd walked in on Dazai staring blankly at a plain wall one too many times. Three times now in the past month. It was enough for Chuuya to know that something wasn't right. Of course it wasn't. Dazai had lived through thirty six hours of torture, it'd be more worrying if there _wasn't_ some kind of problem after that. So, Dazai was struggling. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part was that Chuuya had no idea what to _do_ about it.

Dazai was eating well though, which Chuuya was grateful for. He still skipped breakfast sometimes but at least he wasn't as bony as before. He was starting to pad out just a little - probably because of all the crab Chuuya kept feeding him. Chuuya was starting to run out of ideas for new crab based meals.

After two months of experimenting with dishes Chuuya had started to pick up on more of Dazai's favourite foods. He'd also started to test which vegetables he could sneak into meals without Dazai noticing. Lamb had turned out to be a surprise favourite food. Spinach was an absolute no. Salmon had been tolerable, and apparently if Chuuya ever fed Dazai anchovies again the man would put caterpillars in all of Chuuya's socks.

This evening Chuuya found himself throwing together a quick Fettuccine alfredo, because it was ten o'clock at night and he was _tired_. Despite his own exhaustion he had more common sense than to try and let Dazai cook dinner, so he'd settled on making them both a simple enough dish.

"Chuuuya, can't you cook any faster? I'm hungry!"

It wasn't hard to ignore the whining - he'd had enough practise in that by now. Chuuya instead focusing on bringing the pasta water to a boil. Once he'd done that he turned to Dazai, who was unsurprisingly sat at the table, leaning his head in his arms. They'd both had a long day.

"Dazai. Get your head off my table."

Dazai groaned in protest at that but eventually lifted his head as requested, instead shifting and leaning back so he was slumped in his chair. It tilted dangerously backwards and Chuuya caught it with magic just as it was about to fall, instead manipulating a little gravity to stick the legs of the chair to the floor, stopping Dazai from tipping himself backwards again.

Apparently that didn't please Dazai in the slightest. "Chuuuuuya, I'm bored, you're boring. Let my chair go!"

"No." Chuuya turned back to the stove without another word, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he realised the pasta would take another five minutes to cook. Impatient and not wanting to wait much longer he cut down the cooking time of the pasta, heating the water far above natural temperatures. As soon as it was ready he quickly started to drain it. He was starving. If Dazai kept bugging him before he could eat then he was probably going to snap.

Unfortunately Dazai did not know when to stop. "Come ooon I'm hungry, do-"

Silence. Chuuya sighed in relief. Teleporting Dazai off to the library was perhaps not his kindest move, but Chuuya had had enough. He just wanted food, a nice glass of wine and to go the fuck to bed. But no, instead he'd ended up with a Dazai that had apparently perfected the art of calling his name in the most irritating way humanly possible.

"Chuuuya, that was mean!"

"What the fu-" Chuuya span around, holding a spatula up in defence as Dazai spoke from behind him. Which was supposed to be impossible because he'd teleported Dazai off to the library not ten seconds ago. Chuuya glared at the wall. Or more specifically at the _door_ in the wall, which absolutely hadn't been there a second ago and was definitely his stupid house taking Dazai's side.

"For Gods' sake Kouyou, that's not _fair_!" He yelled out to the ceiling, knowing that he sounded like a petulant child but entirely too hungry to care. Dazai walked up beside him, staring down at the bowl of cheese and clotted cream and pasta. He nodded in apparent acceptance of the dish, before looking at Chuuya.

"Is the house called Kouyou, then? I didn't know it had a name."

Chuuya frowned at that before sighing, shaking his head. "It doesn't have a name, not really. Don't worry about it." It wasn't worth the effort of trying to explain _that _right now, he just wanted to eat. Praise the Gods Dazai didn't push the subject, allowing Chuuya to serve dinner without further interruption.

In keeping with the laws of nature the dinner that had taken Chuuya twenty minutes to prepare and cook was devoured in less than ten. Chuuya sighed as he set his now empty glass of wine down on the table, finally rid of the hunger that had plagued him. With a hum of soft content he stood, placing his empty dish in the sink before turning to Dazai.

"Right, I'm going the fuck to bed, see you tomorrow."

Dazai smiled at him. It was one of those rare, pure smiles that made Chuuya's whole world light up. Just for a second.

"Night."

* * *

Another month went and came and Chuuya slowly started to forget about Dazai's.. problem. There was nothing in their day to day to remind him about it - Dazai seemed fine, genuinely fine. His eyes grew less cold by the day and Chuuya never caught him staring off at nothing again after those three times.

So after much deliberation, Chuuya begun to let Dazai go outside.

It had taken some convincing on Dazai's part. Chuuya had actually been the one to suggest it in the first place but then he'd started worrying, second guessing himself. But Dazai had sat him down and they'd talked about it and eventually Chuuya had decided that Dazai needed time to himself outside of Chuuya's home.

They'd only gone out together, before then. Chuuya was scared that Mori would pop up and steal Dazai away. Another, smaller part of his mind retained the ever-present worry that this was all just an act and Dazai would leave the moment he was given the chance. Chuuya wished deeply that he could grasp that part of his brain and kill it. After everything they'd seen, everything they'd found out together _of course_ Dazai wasn't going to go back to Mori.

The first time Chuuya had let Dazai go out on his own he'd monitored him the entire day. He'd done that the second time too, sitting in a room on his own and casting a far too complicated spell that let him watch Dazai's every move. Dazai had.. Walked, mostly. Around Yokohama, from the port to the fish markets to a variety of clothing stores. There had been one instance where a man had shown up - Chuuya remembered him. He was Hirotsu, the man who's spine Chuuya had intended to crush back in the mall changing rooms. That had been months ago, now.

The interaction between Hirotsu and Dazai had been surprisingly uneventful, but Chuuya had been ready to teleport over the second it went south. They'd exchanged a few words, a few threats, but in the end Dazai had patted Hirotsu on the shoulder and walked away. The man had let Dazai go.

The third time Dazai had said he wanted to go for a walk, Chuuya had vowed to himself that he wouldn't spy on him. Instead he gave Dazai a piece of amber, carefully crafted into a ball. He'd told Dazai to squeeze it if he was ever in any danger, if Mori ever showed up.

It had been three weeks since that day. Dazai had never squeezed it. That didn't help ease Chuuya's worry; it just made him ever alert, so he could be ready at a moment's notice the inevitable day that Dazai squeezed the amber. The day that Dazai _needed_ him.

* * *

"Chuuya, I'm home~!"

Chuuya looked up from his selection of flasks as Dazai called out to him from the doorway. He was smiling and Chuuya returned it, eyeing the shopping bag Dazai held with a mild curiosity. The house had started directing Dazai whenever he returned from his excursions, sending him to wherever Chuuya didn't have a problem with it - it was nice to know that Dazai was back.

Nice to know that he could let his guard down. That he no longer had to be ready to drop everything at a moment's notice.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come back? I could have saved you the walk through the forest."

Dazai shrugged. He walked over to the armchair in the corner of the room, stared at it for a few moments before promptly melting into it, shopping bag dropped to the floor. "The walk was good. The forest is nice, now I know my way here."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that, not believing it. "Seriously? My forest, 'nice'? Are we talking about the same forest?"

With a roll of his eyes Dazai reached out, picked up one of the flasks Chuuya had been working with. Chuuya watched as Dazai swished the contents around, seemingly fascinated by the shimmering purple liquid. "I know I know, your forest is meant to be all scary and stuff to stop people finding our house. But now it's warm and pretty."

'_Our house'_

"Huh." Chuuya wasn't quite sure what to say to that so instead of speaking he turned back to his flasks. He snatched back the one Dazai had taken and mixed a blue powder into it. "I guess you're not an intruder anymore so the forest's changed for you." he mused. He hadn't expected such a reaction from his forest, but he supposed it made sense. He mulled it over in his head as he picked up a little jar of green powder. He went to carefully mix some into the flask but Dazai leaned over to see what he was doing and ended up bumping into Chuuya's arm.

Chuuya swore loudly and colourfully as over half of the jar of powder fell into the flask. He quickly grabbed Dazai's hand and teleported them both to the library. They landed on the sofa and Dazai was quick to shuffle about to rest his head in Chuuya's lap. Chuuya rolled his eyes at that but didn't complain, magicking some powder marks off of his cloak before shifting to make himself comfortable. This was a regular position for them, now.

"What happened with the powdery stuff?"

"Added way too much. Very dangerous. That room doesn't exist anymore."

The house had wiped out the room just after the explosion. That powder would have exploded with almost half the force of an atomic bomb and Chuuya wasn't about to take any chances.

They were quiet for a few minutes before Chuuya reached into nothing and pulled out a baguette that he'd previously kept in the fridge, premade and wrapped in store packaging. Dazai had bought it home for him as a gift - it was spicy chicken flavoured. Chuuya was still quite certain that Dazai had stolen it seeing as he didn't actually have any money, but hey, it saved him from having to make himself lunch.

"So." Chuuya spoke between bites, reluctantly admitting that the baguette was alright. Not brilliant, but decent. "How was your walk? See anything nice?"

"I mugged someone." Chuuya paused mid-bite but then just shrugged. Now he knew where Dazai got the money to buy a baguette, at least. Dazai went on to clarify "But it was Hiroshi so it's alright. I think he quite wanted to shoot me, though"

That made Chuuya's protective instincts flare but he pointedly ignored them because Dazai was here so it was _fine_. Hirotsu didn't have to die. "Yeah? How much was he carrying?"

"Sixteen thousand yen. I do have several bank accounts of my own but I'd rather not remind Mori that I exist. I'm sure he's got someone monitoring them."

Chuuya nodded at that, continuing to eat his baguette. It was spicier than he'd expected, but a nice kind of spicy. Dazai whinged as a piece of lettuce fell down from the baguette onto his face, muttering about how the vegetables were coming for him and sitting up. He drew his knees up to his chest and watched Chuuya eat, which wasn't off putting or creepy in the slightest.

Dazai wasn't filling the void with chatter and Chuuya knew that that meant he was thinking carefully about saying something in particular. As expected Dazai spoke again after a few minutes, just as Chuuya was finishing up his baguette. "So there's a party going on tonight and I think we should go. Apparently there's magic drugs."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that, trying not to dwell on the fact that _Dazai_ was inviting him to a _party_. "Magic drugs? There's no such thing."

"Exactly!" Dazai's eyes gleamed. Chuuya had to wonder what was getting him so excited. "They don't exist, so we should go and see what they _actually_ are. A whole lot of disappointment I won't be partaking in, most likely. Or _maybe _they're actually magic drugs."

"Cool." Chuuya paused a moment to let Dazai think he'd won, before smiling. "So what's the reason you _actually_ want to go? You know, besides the magic drugs."

The look Dazai gave him for that one was a brilliant mix of surprise and heartfelt distaste. Ah, Dazai really didn't like being bested, _especially_ not in conversation. "No fair. You're not meant to be the perceptive one, that's my job!"

Chuuya let loose a soft laugh at that one, lounging back against the arm of the sofa. "Oh really? _Fascinating_. So tell me 'oh perceptive one', why do you want to go to this party?"

Quiet for a moment as Dazai stared at him, eyes narrowed in thoughtful consideration. Clearly he was making a decision - an important one, from the looks of it. Chuuya gave him the time to think, pulling a wine glass out of the air and taking a sip as he waited. It didn't take too long before Dazai spoke up, the tone of voice suggesting that he'd really rather not be saying anything at all.

"I've heard an old.. Friend might be there, I need to see if it's true." A pause, then "Chuuya. You have a drinking problem."

Now Chuuya certainly hadn't been expecting _that_. Dazai certainly knew how to change the topic effectively. "I absolutely do _not _have a drinking problem. I can magic away the effects of the alcohol, its fine. Besides, I'm almost six centuries old, it takes a _lot_ to get me drunk."

"Woah, Chuuya's ooold. How come you look so.. Y'know." Dazai was blushing and Chuuya was so, so tempted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he didn't want to scare Dazai away. Not now, not when he'd already spent _months_ reminding himself that he had to take things slowly when it came to Dazai. It was important to let Dazai make the first move in.. whatever was to come. Whatever _this_ was - would be.

So instead Chuuya pretended not to notice the pretty patches of red on Dazai's cheeks. He dutifully started to explain why he still looked so handsome, because he was entirely convinced that that was what Dazai had been about to call him.

"A Mage's body stops aging when they accumulate a certain amount of power. It varies depending on the Mage and what craft they're specialising in, I suppose. Mine stopped.. Ah, I suppose I was about twenty? It's hard to be sure, takes a few years to know when you've stopped. But I was well on my way to becoming a proper Shaman then, so around twenty makes good sense."

Dazai nodded thoughtfully, before he did that little thing where his nose scrunched up and he looked away because he thought the question he wanted to ask was stupid. After a few seconds though Dazai looked back at him, eyes oddly determined. "When did you start training as a Mage, then?"

"Oh." Chuuya was so surprised that it left him as a noise, a soft breath of shock. Of all the things in the world that Dazai could ask about, Chuuya had never expected his childhood to ever come up. The younger years were so long ago to most Mages that no one ever really discussed it.

Chuuya forced a smile, ignoring the more painful memories Dazai's question had dragged up inside him. He'd had centuries to learn how to ignore them. Besides, he had more than enough happy memories to drown them out with.

"People don't really know that Mages exist, now. But there was a time when people did know. They feared what they didn't understand, but most people were too scared to try and stand up to anyone who knew magic. So some towns -smaller villages, mostly- offered sacrifices."

Chuuya smiled to himself, indulging in the fonder memories for a moment. He still remembered his own village. A tiny little thing, no more than fifty residents and at least thirty of those had been farmers. "To the right of my home village was a forest. Deep within it a family of Mages lived. They didn't bother anyone but the villagers still feared them, so one day they sacrificed a child to the family. Chosen entirely randomly - the eight year old son of the village doctor."

"You." Dazai breathed out the word, seemingly entranced by the story. Chuuya nodded, smile growing softer. He didn't feel bitter or any kind of resentment towards his parents, his village. They'd been scared. They'd done what they'd felt was necessary to protect themselves, and Chuuya found that.. Noble, in a strange kind of way.

"Yes, me. I was given to the family. They were kind. Raised me the rest of the way, from boy to young man. They treated me well. They said it was alright if I didn't take an interest in magic but I was _fascinated_ by it. What child wouldn't be, really?

"Mage families don't tend to stay together all that long. The children go off around thirteen or fourteen and they don't ever tend to go back. Those you train with become your new family. I was sad when I left, but it wasn't too hard. I'd already left one family, afterall. So when I was thirteen I went all the way to the City of the Mother with my new Sister. It was one of a handful of Mage only cities, where most children would go to start their training."

Dazai hummed in thought, before piping up with a question. "If I were to become your apprentice, would I have to go there?"

Chuuya wasn't sure why _that_ question of all things was the one that hit him like a punch to the gut. He forced a smile but was painfully sure that Dazai could see through it, all the way to the pain. No matter. He was fine, he was.. _Fine_, the question had just been a surprise. That was all.

"The City was destroyed my fourth year there so no, you will not be going." Chuuya stood quickly, desperate to change the topic now it was starting to drift towards more unpleasant memories. He couldn't think of anything else to talk about though, not now. So instead he turned back to Dazai, managing what he hoped looked like an apologetic smile. It might have been more a grimace, really.

"I've got to go decide what I'll wear to this party. Bye."

Chuuya teleported from the room, sitting heavily on the bed as he arrived in the safety of his own bedroom. He tried not to feel too bad - Dazai had no idea what he'd stumbled upon, what he'd made Chuuya think about. It was an accident and tonight they'd go to the party and everything would be alright again.

He clenched his hands to fists to stop his fingers trembling, forcing his eyes shut and clearing his mind. Once he was at a satisfactory level of calm Chuuya took a slow, deep breath before standing, turning to his wardrobe. He supposed he might as well choose a proper outfit for Dazai's party. A cloak simply wouldn't do.

* * *

"When you said party I was picturing something a little more.. _Refined_."

Dazai watched with an amused smile as Chuuya's lip curled in visible disgust at the scene he found himself in. The party they found themselves at was refined in exactly no ways. They were underground. That was handy - the coolness of the stale air was the only thing that made the heat of moving bodies bearable. The music was almost deafening. All around them people were drinking and dancing and injecting substances that really weren't healthy for the human body.

He was no stranger to scenes like this but he did tend to avoid them. This time, though.. If _he_ really was here like Hirotsu had suggested, it was worth putting up with the stench of sweat and vomit.

"Come on Chuuya, it'll just be for an hour at most. That friend of mine is supposed to be here anytime over the next half hour, we can go then."

Chuuya huffed his distaste but said nothing else, plucking awkwardly at the sleeves of his coat in his discomfort. Dazai did feel a little bad about that one - Chuuya was overdressed for a place like this, all fancy shoes and a shirt and a bolo tie. He'd even ditched the cloak - Dazai considered that a miracle of its own. The cloak had been replaced by a coat, a long black thing with a handsome red lining. Meanwhile Dazai could easily pass as some kind of office worker who'd come here to escape the monotony of life with his scruffy hair, trousers and a plain shirt. He'd undone the top three buttons. He hadn't missed the way Chuuya's eyes had drifted to his neck every so often, as though he could see beneath the bandages.

Similarly, Dazai found himself very much wanting to dwell on how attractive Chuuya looked with black leather gloves on. Unfortunately he had other priorities for tonight. Later, though. He'd have all the time in the world to dwell once they were back home.

Dazai watched as Chuuya sighed very loudly and dramatically before he pulled a whole bottle of red from thin air. He started to drink straight from the bottle with no hesitation, which meant it was cheap wine. Dazai smiled his amusement but then turned back to scanning the crowd. He needed to focus.

Practised eyes scanned for his target, flicking from face to face, taking in the details but never lingering. His instincts tugged and Dazai followed, eyes sliding across the room to a back door as it closed - the movement he'd caught in his peripheral vision. Someone had slipped in. Dazai examined the faces near the door, whole body stiffening as he locked eyes with the one person he'd come to a shit hole like this to find.

Dazai started walking towards Ango, the world around him put on standby. It wasn't important. Only one thing here was important, and that was-

"Dazai!"

Chuuya's shout of warning came too late. The casual hand on his shoulder mixed with the familiar firm of cold metal against his head was enough to bring Dazai to a halt. He paused in his march towards Ango, who was staring at him, eyes wide in his surprise. Ango hadn't set this up, then. _Good_.

Dazai knew that the moment he looked away Ango would have vanished into the crowd. So he nodded to the man once. He wasn't quite sure what deep, meaningful message he was supposed to be transferring with that gesture but Ango seemed to get it. He returned it with a tilt of his chin. Dazai allowed himself a moment's smile. He wondered if Ango would see it. Probably, with those glasses of his.

Without further ado Dazai twisted his neck to look at the one man in the Port Mafia who would dare to so blatantly hold a gun to his head.

"Hello, Mori. Been a while."

Mori shouldn't have been able to hear him, not over the sounds around them. But then again nobody seemed to have noticed that there was a gun in the room, either. Most likely the doing of magic, then.

"My, you're even starting to _talk_ like Nakahara, what a pity. I must say Dazai, I was expecting him to have discarded you by now. When dear Hirotsu told me otherwise I was so _very_ pleased. Let's go outside, shall we? Nakahara will follow."

The gun against his head didn't really leave him with much of a choice. Dazai nodded and without another word Mori's grip tightened from casual to a threat on his shoulder. The man weaved his way through the crowd, steered Dazai towards the back exit. As expected Ango was long gone. He'd disappeared into the room and had probably declared whatever operation he'd been here for a bust.

Dazai allowed himself to be pushed forwards without hesitation, ignoring the elbows and feet and shoulders they bumped into on their way towards the exit. The crowd was a pulsating, living being around them but Dazai paid it no mind, weaving through the bodies in the direction Mori guided him. So many people around them, all of them unimportant. There was only one other person in this room that he cared about and that person would follow.

Chuuya would always follow. Out through the door, and to whatever came next.

* * *

Boy howdy it is a diddly darn _miracle_ this chapter was finished in time. Still not 100 percent happy with it, but I doubt any amount of editing over the next few days will change that, so decided to leave it as is !

The plot is ramping back up, buckle your seatbelts kiddies because we are in for a _ride_ next chapter.


	11. 11: Something Like This

Eleven: Something Like This

* * *

Okay kids it's 11pm and I'm fuelled purely on banana bread it's time to _write this fucker._

* * *

Dazai didn't bother to struggle as he was lead outside, guided by the harshness of a gun to his head. Mori slipped them from the crowd, up the stairs and out the back door without any fuss, taking them into the alleyway. His first breath of the cool night air stung at his nose but it was a welcome relief from the entirely too human scent of sweat, vomit and alcohol that had been permeated the underground club. Dazai only realised how bad it had been in their as the fresh air felt so _good_.

He winced as without a second thought Mori shot a civilian that had been leaning against the wall, distracted by his phone. He hadn't even noticed them, but he was a potential witness so he had to go. The man fell to the ground in a heap, one neat hole through the side of his head.

The deed done Dazai felt the press of metal return to his own head, pressed against the side of his temple this time. Right in the same place Mori had shot the now dead man.

Well then. If nothing else, Mori certainly knew how to hammer home a threat.

They stood by the wall, waiting in silence, both men tense. Mori didn't try to start any kind of conversation - he wasn't here for Dazai, then. Chuuya threw the back door open seconds later with a force that made the hinges creek. The two Mage's eyes met, dangerous and cold, and Dazai inhaled sharply as he felt power swell around him. The two energies filled the alley, so potent that they were making his head spin.

"Mori." Chuuya ground out the man's name like it physically pained him to speak it. Dazai stared in awe as the pavement around Chuuya's feet began to dip dangerously in his fury. The single lampost lighting the alley creaked in protest as its metal started to droop towards Chuuya, pulled in by his gravity.

Dazai didn't feel the force of it, but he could tell the gravity was affecting Mori was from the uncomfortable grimace that twisted the man's face. Chuuya sneered at his pain, taking a deliberate step towards them. The ground sloped unnaturally around him and the lamppost shrieked.

"Human skulls are _very_ breakable, Mori. Let Dazai go."

Dazai hoped that maybe that would be it, that the display of power would be enough and Mori would realise that he couldn't win, not against Chuuya. The foolish hope was dashed as Mori laughed, a vibrant, twisted thing rich with his feelings of genuine amusement, but tainted by how rotten a person he was inside.

"No, I don't think I will. You know what I want, Nakahara. The locket. Now, please."

Dazai didn't know what that meant or what locket Mori was referring to, but Chuuya seemed to understand. His lips pulled into a sneer, eyebrows raised in a mocking disbelief "If you really think I'm going to just give you something that'll double your magical potency then you're more delusional than I first assumed, Mori."

Mori nodded, and when Dazai glanced up at him he had a pleasant smile on his face. The kind Dazai had seen countless times before, in negotiations that Mori had rigged in his own favour. "Perhaps." Dazai hissed a breath as out of nowhere he felt a sharp, cutting pain in his side. He stared down at the scalpel, gritting his teeth hard as Mori made a show of dragging the blade down, cutting a line into the side of his stomach.

Dazai didn't make a noise. He wasn't about to give this man the satisfaction of hearing him scream, never again. Chuuya's hands had tightened into angry fists but he couldn't make a move, held at bay by the gun Mori still held steady to Dazai's head.

"Come now Nakahara, we both know you'll give it to me. The only real question is whether that'll be before or after I force some more magic inside your new friend. What do you think, Dazai?"

Dazai couldn't keep the grin off his face at that one. It was the kind of grin that could express ten years of loathing, all directed at one man. Dazai knew he probably looked insane but he didn't _care_, still grinning as he forced his body around so that he could make direct eye contact with Mori. He ignored how the action caused the scalpel to rip at his side. _This_ was more important than a temporary thing like pain.

"I've already lived through thirty six hours of your 'experiments', do you really think a few more minutes will make a difference, _boss_?"

For a moment Mori seemed genuinely surprised at Dazai's words. His eyes widened a little before his mouth stretched into a smile, and he glanced over at Chuuya. "Oh, you gave him the memories back, how delightful!" Dazai stared unflinching as Mori locked eyes with him, smile turning dark "I hope every second of it hurt, _brat_. The locket, Nakahara. Now."

Another step closer. Chuuya had slipped his hands into his pockets, trying to look as unaffected as possible by the gun to Dazai's head, the five centimeter slice in his side. Dazai had never noticed it before now -had never had reason to- but Chuuya, too, was exceptionally skilled at wearing masks. "What makes you think I'll choose him over the locket, huh? Back off Mori, or I swear I'll put a black hole in your head."

Dazai watched Chuuya carefully as Mori hummed to himself in thought, a curious noise. Mori's free arm was wrapped tight around Dazai's chest and Dazai _hated_ it, hated how Mori could probably feel how hard his heart was beating. He realised that Mori probably wasn't even considering him a possible threat in this scenario, because he _wasn't_.

Dazai decided in that moment that when all this was said and done, he would learn magic.

"Could you really reach all the way over to my head before I put a bullet in dear Dazai's brain do you think?" Mori sounded entirely too curious. He obviously wasn't taking Chuuya's threats seriously at all and Dazai didn't understand why. Chuuya had always said that Mori was scared of him, too intimidated by Chuuya's powers to ever make a direct move against him. What had changed? "Come on, lets try it. A fun little experiment, just like the old days!"

"You're a sick bastard, Mori. That boy's worth shit to me compared to the locket."

Dazai felt something catch in his throat then, and for a second he was sure he was choking. He felt more than saw the movements as Mori glanced down at him, could picture the amused smile on his face. Mori _knew_, knew that Chuuya's words had affected Dazai. And they had, because Dazai had realised in a rush that he couldn't _really_ know for sure if Chuuya meant his words or not. There was no way, no way for him to be certain either way.

Dazai's mind raced along with his heart. What was this locket, anyway? Was it's value less or more than his life to Chuuya? To Mori?

"Let's not pretend, Nakahara. You'll always choose Dazai because you're in _love_, isn't that right?"

For a moment Dazai's mind tripped over the words, needing time to process. Then he just wanted to laugh at them because if _love_ was what Mori was banking on as his way out of this encounter, then he'd just dug his own grave. Of course Chuuya didn't love him, Chuuya was - wasn't saying anything, actually. Was blushing right up to his ears. _Oh_.

There was no warning - Chuuya knew better than to telegraph his attacks. Chuuya lunged. What could only be described as a black hole was forming in his hand and it was aimed right for Mori's face.

Dazai didn't need to look at Mori to see the surprise in his expression; he could feel it in the loosening of the muscles, in the way his body went slack for just a moment as a mind that had expected anything but this fought to process what it was seeing. A moment was all Dazai needed - he used it to twist and duck, wrenching his way forwards.

It wasn't enough to break Mori's grasp but it was enough to get his head safely in front of the gun. The sound of a shot split the air just behind his head. His ears rang and burned with an unimaginable pain but Dazai moved through it - he didn't need to hear, not for this. He flung his arm out towards Chuuya's hand and Chuuya was ready for it, already extending his left arm towards Dazai. The moment their fingertips brushed the world collapsed in on itself, folding then spitting them out in Chuuya's library.

Dazai stared up through wobbling vision. Chuuya was staring down at him, eyes wild and he was saying something, gesturing. Dazai couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears but he could guess what Chuuya was trying to tell him, ask him.

"Go!" He couldn't hear his own voice, but the vibrations of it in his throat told him that he shouted the word. Chuuya nodded and teleported away without another word.

Alone Dazai groaned, allowing himself a few moments to focus on the pain. He was still bleeding from his side and the splitting pain in his ears were making it impossible to focus, to think. He sat down hard on the wooden floor, missing the beanbag by several inches. Dazai groaned again although it came out more of a pained moan than anything, hiding his face in the beanbag as the world lurched. He desperately fought off the overwhelming wave of nausea. He wasn't about to throw up, not here, not now.

Dazai felt something drop on his head and blearily looked up, forcing a watery smile at the roll of bandages that had appeared. The house's magic at work. Feeling very much like he'd been hit by a truck Dazai forced himself to sit up again. He pulled his shirt up and clumsily started to wrap the bandages around his wounds.

He jumped as Chuuya appeared back in the room again, startled by his sudden appearance. Dazai could just barely hear the vibrations of what sounded suspisciously like a loud exclamation of 'fuck' as Chuuya landed. Mori must have gotten away, then. Dazai blinked up at him as Chuuya's mouth formed more words that Dazai couldn't decipher.

He couldn't be bothered to try and express that he had no clue what Chuuya was saying. Instead Dazai decided to believe that Chuuya was probably saying something nice about how brace he was or.. something. Dazai watched through tired eyes as Chuuya crouched down beside him and took the bandages out of Dazai's hands, started wrapping up his wound for him. Dazai was grateful for it because it allowed him to hide his face in the beanbag again, in a vain attempt to blot out how out of order the world seemed to be without sound.

Minutes passed and Dazai focused in on the sensations around him to ground himself - the gentleness of the fingers brushing over his skin, the familiar tightness that came with the bandages. When he'd first started wearing bandages to cover his scars he'd wrapped them all around his torso, including his stomach. He'd stopped that after a year of it - it had been too much effort and nobody ever saw his stomach anyway.

These days he still wrapped the white rolls of soft gauze around his neck and arms every morning, but he was starting to see less and less reason to. Chuuya had already seen it all. What was the point?

"-Dazai. Oi, Dazai, come on, sit up already." Dazai reluctantly removed his face from the beanbag as he realised that Chuuya's noises were starting to take the form of actual words. His ears still ached horribly but the roar had faded to a persistent ringing.

Chuuya was staring down at him with concern written all over his face and Dazai sighed, grimacing as the noise sounded strangely to his damaged ears. He pointed at his ears in explanation, looking up at Chuuya. "Tinnitus" He said. Chuuya grimaced and Dazai supposed he was probably speaking quite loudly. Oh well.

Setting the roll of bandages aside, Chuuya sat himself on the floor in front of Dazai. Dazai found himself watching Chuuya's mouth closely; his mind was for some reason convinced that if he wasn't watching Chuuya then he'd have no idea that the man was talking. It was an irrational worry now that he had a bit of his hearing back, but Dazai found himself unable to shake it.

Gross. Gods, he hated injuries like this.

Chuuya made the mouth movement that indicated sighing, and then he spoke. Dazai squinted at him, as though that would somehow make all the words Chuuya was speaking clearer to his ringing ears. It didn't.

"Guess a gunshot next to your face would do that. You alright?"

Dazai wrinkled his nose in displeasure before shrugging, face sour. "I suppose." He could hear his own voice a little more clearly now, which made it easier to talk. "It could have gone worse, couldn't it. Are you okay?"

Chuuya grimaced but nodded. He suddenly wouldn't meet Dazai's eyes, instead apparently fascinated by the wooden floor, his gaze locked onto it. Dazai didn't miss the beginning of a blush spreading across Chuuya's cheeks. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Fine."

Silence stretched between them for almost a minute, then. Dazai didn't mind the quiet - it gave his ears a chance to cease their ringing, the nausea fading away with the noise. Dazai watched Chuuya but Chuuya didn't once look at him, so Dazai realised that he would have to be the one to speak first. Which was ridiculous, because out of the two of them Chuuya was supposed to be the one well versed in human interaction and social skills. Dazai just _pretended_ he was good at those things. He had no idea how he was actually supposed to approach.. this.

"So you, uh… You love me, then?"

Dazai could only watch in amazement as Chuuya opened his mouth to respond but instead just sighed, an angry noise. Dazai didn't say anything else as Chuuya jumped to his feet and stalked over to the nearest bookshelf, pulling out a seemingly random book and staring at it for a moment before sighing again and shoving it back between the other books. He didn't look at Dazai once in that time, and when he finally spoke he was facing the rows of books, hands on his hips and voice telling of his frustration.

"Fuck, yes, I love you alright? I just… I didn't want you to find out like this. Especially not through _him_!"

Dazai couldn't explain why those words made the area around his heart grow so very warm, or why they had his mouth curving up, into a sweet smile. He almost wanted to laugh at the whole situation because _of course_ that was what Chuuya was worried about - he was a hopelessly sentimental romantic, after all.

Biting back a groan Dazai pushed himself to his feet. The world only spun for a few seconds before settling back into place. He was already faering a lot better than he had been, then. Emboldened by his regained ability to maneuver himself Dazai carefully walked over to the bookshelf, steps light.

"Chuuya's sweet." He murmured, not knowing what else could be appropriate to say here. His words seemed to be on the right track because a little tension visibly dropped from Chuuya's shoulders. Chuuya let out a soft chuckle, a noise that told of a youthful spirit entangled with an impossibly vast experience of the world. It was a noise that always rang with an ancient wisdom Dazai could barely imagine.

Chuuya could be like that sometimes, and then other times he could just be a complete idiot.

"Oh I'm 'nice', am I?" Chuuya finally turned to face Dazai, a trace of a smile playing on his lips. "Well? You haven't rejected me yet."

Their eyes locked then, two souls that had seen too much and lived too long - for entirely different reasons. Only a couple of feet separated them and Dazai was all too aware of how quickly a space like that could be closed.

A second. That's all it would take. Just one second of their lives.

"No." The word was careful, thoughtful but then Dazai found himself smiling again. Chuuya was smiling too, a ghost of a thing that danced on his lips. "No, I haven't rejected you, have I?"

Something in the air changed, then. Dazai could feel it like something solid, a tangible force - not just an immaterial tension between two bodies but something stronger, something _real_. There was no turning back, not now - Dazai found that the thought didn't scare him. Why would he want to turn away from _this_?

Chuuya leant forwards and like a mirror Dazai reflected the movement, drawn in by that unnameable energy. Those _eyes_.

It was soft, when their lips first met. A gentle kiss, and then another - just as gentle, as though Chuuya was worried that Dazai would disappear if he pushed too hard. But then Dazai placed a careful hand on Chuuya's chest and neither of them vanished into smoke, so the fear was assuaged.

All hesitance gone the soft, gentle things soon turned rough, shifting to the bruising of lips against each other. Dazai's mouth opened in a gasp as Chuuya gripped his waist and turned them both, so that Dazai was the one pressed back against the bookshelf. The feeling of Chuuya's tongue slipping into his mouth was too electrifying for Dazai to care about the implications, the germs. Any of it. All he could focus on was the sensation.

Dazai knew what sex was like. He'd slept with both men and women in the past, either for missions or to satisfy his own curiosity, but never had he felt desire quite like this. It was a burning, insistent thing that writhed about in his stomach, not letting him forget for a moment how much _more_ he wanted.

He would settle for nothing less than all of Chuuya, tonight.

Dazai let himself groan around Chuuya's tongue as a thigh pressed up into his groin, rubbing back and forth in entirely uncoordinated motions. Each movement sent a flash of heat through him and Dazai reached up, pushed at Chuuya's coat until it slipped off his shoulders and fell heavy to the floor.

Chuuya pulled back at that and Dazai found he was short of breath, eyes locked onto Chuuya's - the brilliant blue-grey that never failed to enchant him these days. "Chuuya-" He still didn't have enough breath to properly form the word but it didn't matter; Chuuya stopped him with another press of their lips together in what was an almost chaste kiss compared to the previous messy hunger.

"Dazai, if you need to stop-"

"I _know_, I'll tell you." The words were close to a whine and betrayed his desperation, but Dazai was too caught up in all these feelings to care much at all about dignity. Why would he waste time focusing on himself when he could feel like _this_?

During his previous.. Encounters, there had always been some kind of silent expectation that he would be the one in control, the one to make decisions and do the work and shift the atmosphere of the room. At times it was due to his reputation, and at others it was simply presumed that that was his role, as a man. There was none of that now. Chuuya had fallen naturally into his desired role, pushing Dazai up against the bookshelf and _holding him there_, and Dazai wasn't protesting - was eager for it, even.

Chuuya had shown him so many new things, new ways to view the world. It was only natural that he would grant him a different perspective in this, too.

One of Chuuya's hands remained pressed against Dazai's shoulder, a grounding weight that kept him positioned against the bookshelf. The other hand reached to the buttons of Dazai's shirt, skimming down past the top three that he'd left unbuttoned for the party. For a tender moment fingers brushed over the bandages around Dazai's neck, before they started to undo the remaining buttons. Chuuya was clearly experienced, working quickly despite only using one hand - but apparently that wasn't enough for him, and Dazai gasped as Chuuya ripped down the front of his shirt, breaking all the buttons away with the distinct noise of tearing thread.

Dazai didn't have the chance to even think about being self conscious, because as Chuuya slid the sleeves of his shirt down Dazai's arms Chuuya's thigh returned to press insistently between his legs. Dazai groaned at the friction, already growing hard by now, the liquid burn of sensation enough to distract him from any thoughts outside of the desire for _more_.

Chuuya seemed happy to give - no longer occupied in removing Dazai's shirt his free hand wrapped around Dazai's waist, pulling him close as he collided their lips in another kiss, rougher than the last. Dazai felt heat start to rise to his cheeks as Chuuya bit teasingly at his lip before pushing his tongue inside, thigh rubbing slow circles over Dazai's crotch all the while. Chuuya's arm pulled Dazai in, pressed their bodies together. Chuuya still wore his shirt and Dazai shivered at the sensation of cotton against his bare skin, brushing against his nipples. Chuuya was dragging this out, and Dazai was growing more sensitive by the minute.

Chuuya seemed to notice, if the way he pulled back to smirk was any indication. His expression was smug but his eyes were bright with desire as he very obviously looked Dazai over, eyes trailing from reddened lips still wet with spit to roam the plains of his chest. Dazai had never removed his shirt during sex before - he'd never wanted anyone to see the scars. He didn't feel like Chuuya was seeing the scars, though. Chuuya had a way of looking right past them and seeing Dazai, only Dazai.

It was a beautiful thing, to feel wanted. With horror Dazai was struck for a moment with the distinct feeling that he might cry, only to be promptly distracted as Chuuya's hand moved to play with Dazai's belt.

But Dazai could feel the hesitation in Chuuya's movements, now - it was clear in the way his fingers fumbled at the loops of the belt, even though his one handed unbuttoning display earlier had suggested that he was quite the expert in undressing people. The realisation that Chuuya was hesitating brought an impatient sort of frustration to Dazai. It was sweet that Chuuya was caring about him, but Dazai so badly wanted to take that last bit of hesitation and throw it aside so he could get on with just _feeling_.

"Chuuya." He spoke into another kiss, feeling his lips move against Chuuya's. Dazai sought his eyes, catching his gaze, hoping that Chuuya would see the truth to his words. "I _want_ this, Chuuya. I want you."

"_Fuck Dazai_-" Apparently that was all it took to break Chuuya's restraint. The hand moved from his shoulder to practically tear off Dazai's belt and loosen his pants. Dazai took the opportunity to undo Chuuya's shirt, working to even out their levels of undress.

It all went very quickly after that. Chuuya entertained himself with trying to coax every noise he could out of Dazai with just the use of his knee, while Dazai busied himself with touching every inch of Chuuya's skin he could reach, realising that this was the first time he was seeing Chuuya without a shirt and intending to take full advantage of that opportunity.

Dazai was fully erect by the time Chuuya finally teleported them away, off to Chuuya's bedroom. It was a space Dazai had never been in before but he was far too preoccupied to care about that now - Chuuya had busied himself in pulling Dazai's remaining clothes off the moment they'd landed on the bed.

"You're beautiful." The words were an absent murmur but they still brought a bright spattering of colour to Dazai's cheeks. Chuuya didn't appear to notice - his patience was seemingly at its end as he pulled a bottle of lubricant from the air. Dazai was hit once again by the fact that this was actually _happening_. He was lying on his back on Chuuya's bed and Chuuya was above him, holding himself up with arms that were more toned than Dazai had envisioned. His chest, too. It was _hot_, Dazai realised with a rush. Chuuya was incredibly attractive and was _about to fuck him_.

Ah, about that..

"Chuuya, I haven't - I've never exactly.. well, been on the receiving end before."

Chuuya laughed at that, the noise as rich and wonderful as always. He sat up to stare down at Dazai, thighs resting either side of Dazai's.

"That was the most roundabout way you could have possibly said that, you know? It's fine, it won't hurt." Just like that Chuuya was moving again, sliding a hand between Dazai's legs. Dazai squirmed, unable to fight back all his anticipation. The internet had suggested that this _would_ hurt, regardless of Chuuya's reassurances.

But Chuuya didn't even try to push his fingers inside. "Let me just.. There." Dazai gasped at the sudden slick coolness inside him. He stared up at Chuuya, not even beginning to know what to think about _that_. Chuuya grinned down at him, pushing three fingers into Dazai just to prove that he could. Dazai found himself wriggling at the sensation, not entirely pleasurable but not uncomfortable, either. He stared up at Chuuya in silent demand for an explanation and Chuuya only grinned wider, scissoring his fingers and making Dazai gasp again.

"Sorcerer, remember?" Chuuya sounded entirely too smug about that. He soon pulled out his fingers and poured a liberal amount of the lube onto his hand, spreading it across his own dick, fully erect by now. Dazai gazed hungrily, drinking in the way Chuuya bit his lower lip as he squeezed the head of his cock, eyelids fluttering for just a moment.

"I wanted to go slower with you, but I just don't seem to have the patience. Next time?"

"Next time." Dazai agreed. His heart did a stupid little flutter at the promise of a next time and Dazai ignored it, because Chuuya was lining himself up and in the grand scheme of things that was _far_ more important.

On the second thrust Dazai moaned, letting his head fall back against the sheets as Chuuya started up a steady, fast rhythm. It didn't hurt at all - the magic had done its work in preparing him properly. When Dazai looked up to see Chuuya's face he saw that Chuuya was already staring down at him, gaze intense and mouth telling of a pleasure that Dazai had never felt before. He was feeling it now - it was intense and overwhelming and perfect. Perfect.

Chuuya lasted longer than Dazai. Once a well angled thrust hit his prostate Dazai was gone, reaching his orgasm with a moan he didn't think to hold back. Through the white haze of sensation he felt Chuuya grip harder at his hips, thrusts growing faster, more erratic.

By the time Chuuya came a few minutes later Dazai was making soft, desperate moans, on the edge of overstimulation. He let out a final, gurgled gasp as Chuuya's release filled him, hot and wet. It sparked a strange feeling in his chest, knowing that part of Chuuya was inside him. His mind was quickly distracted from those thoughts as Chuuya pulled out with a quiet groan of his own, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Dazai's lips. The gentleness of it contrasted the erratic thrusts of moments ago.

Without a word Chuuya rolled to the side, flopping back on the bed next to Dazai. The two were quiet for several minutes, both catching their breath and enjoying the pleasant contentedness of post-sex afterglow.

Fingers brushed against his own, before curling to hold his hand. Dazai looked over at Chuuya and was met with a soft smile. He found himself returning it, enjoying the moment. It was nice to just be here, like this.

"I did have a plan, you know." Dazai spoke after several more minutes of the relaxed, comfortable quiet they'd shared. His voice was soft, subdued compared to his usual energy. "I was going to go to that party and find Ango and then get - well, not drunk, but.. Enough that I'd stop overthinking everything. Then we were going to go home, and if I felt like it was the right time, I was going to kiss you."

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at that but then let his head flop to the side again, staring up at the ceiling. Dazai liked to think that he looked happy. He was too tired to turn his head and check. "Yeah? We did.. A lot more than kissing."

Dazai didn't say anything to that. Instead he smiled and said "I love you too."

He heard the way Chuuya's breath caught. The way that he didn't turn to look at him, seemed to be frozen in place. Chuuya was scared of rejection, Dazai realised with a sudden clarity. Had been since.. Since the very beginning, really. "I wasn't planning on ever telling you, but… well, there you go."

Chuuya didn't speak for almost a minute after that. Dazai didn't mind - the silence wasn't an awkward, clumsy thing but a gentle, relaxed kind of peace. When Chuuya did speak his voice was soft, sincere. "I love you."

Dazai smiled. If the Gods were real, then clearly they were merciful, to give someone like him something like this.

"I know."

* * *

I had no motivation to write this chapter at all aHH. But then when I started I got going pretty well! I wrote this in exactly one (one) day but I'm posting it anyway because I think it turned out pretty alright regardless? I also spent a good couple of hours just writing out different descriptions for this fic and.. I finally came up with one I don't hate! So on that note, please let me know what you think about the new description ! :D I also updated the tags. Yay me.

O h yeah and they did the fucc ! I've known it was happening this chapter since like two chapters ago and I haven't been able to say anything about it but now I fINALLY can. It was supposed to be a bit rougher because Chuuya was angry about Mori, but,, Dazai is turning out to be more of a sap than he realises so it kind of turned out really sweet instead.

Thanks for being patient with me over that unplanned week break, I had loads of work and no motivation to write. I'm going on holiday to Corfu on Monday and I always write looooads on holidays so ! Expect regular updates and maybe a couple of oneshots if all goes to plan


	12. 12: The Storm

Twelve: The Storm

Trigger warnings for the chapter are in end notes

They didn't talk about it.

Normally that would concern Chuuya - after all, he and Dazai had just propelled their relationship forwards with what was quite frankly the best sex Chuuya had had in a very long time. It probably would have been healthy to talk about it, or at least talk about _something_.

They never did. Dazai didn't bring it up, and Chuuya wasn't sure _what_ to bring up, exactly. What was there to talk about? Chuuya found he didn't quite know the answer to that one. His relationship with Dazai was anything but normal, and Chuuya was starting to think that trying to fit it into a conventionally shaped box and slap a label on it would only serve to drive them both insane.

So they didn't talk about things. They didn't need words, not really, not for this. The looks and touches they shared said far more than words would ever be able to.

Things progressed as they had before, in a way. They both shared meals and films and stupid jokes. Dazai went out a little less, now; Chuuya didn't ask, but he assumed their encounter with Mori had left Dazai shaken, cautious.

Today was in fact the first day Dazai had gone outside on his own since then. That left Chuuya how it always did: alone, at home, waiting for the second something would go wrong and he'd have to rush to Dazai's side.

It had been a week and a half since Mori had happened.

They'd both had that time to relax at home, knowing that Mori could never reach them, not if they were in Chuuya's territory. Dazai seemed to believe that, Chuuya.. Chuuya wanted to believe it too, but dread had been growing in him for almost a month now because he was _sure_ Mori had some kind of plan. Something that would catch Chuuya entirely off guard and allow Mori to get the upper hand even when Chuuya was in his own home - practically a stronghold with how hostile the house could be.

When Dazai was gone, Chuuya would research. When Dazai was home Chuuya would also research, he just made sure his posture was better. He was supposed to be setting a good example, after all.

Chuuya had spent several long nights sitting alone, brainstorming all the possibilities, researching any kind of approaches or spells that could allow Mori access to his home without being soundly beaten as soon as he stepped in the door. Chuuya would study until the words started blurring into jumbles and his head span in protest, but Dazai's gentle words and touches were the only thing that seemed to be able to drag him away from his research and off to bed.

They slept together most nights. Sometimes in Dazai's bed, sometimes in Chuuya's and sometimes they ended up under piles of blankets on the couch. Other times they ended up back in their own rooms, but Chuuya thought perhaps that was healthy. They needed to take things at a reasonable pace, be careful not to overwhelm each other.

Dazai seemed to share the sentiment. They hadn't been intimate since that first time - that brilliant first time. The hunger was still there, of course, but Chuuya could tell that rushing into constant sex would not be healthy for Dazai, nor for himself. It had been a _long_ time since he'd been in a long term relationship and after some probing Dazai had admitted he'd never been in one.

And so, Chuuya waited - both for the day Mori would inevitably make a move, and for a time when Dazai would be truly ready to take things further. He had a feeling that he'd be waiting a while. He didn't mind; he had more than enough of his own hangups to deal with, in the meantime.

"Hey, you hungry?"

The question was relaxed, the heat of the day brushing away any urgency to get Dazai fed. They could eat, or they could wait. Chuuya didn't _care_. He was perfectly content here, now. Dazai groaned in response to the question and Chuuya looked down, meeting Dazai's gaze as sleepy eyes blinked up at him.

"Dunno. _Napping_, Chuuya."

Chuuya rolled his eyes at what was the disgruntled whine of someone who didn't want to be awake. He hadn't realised he'd woken Dazai up - hadn't noticed Dazai fall asleep in the first place. "Come on, you won't sleep later if you nap." Despite his words Chuuya kept running lazy fingers through Dazai's hair.

They were sharing one of their softer moments; Chuuya was sat on the library sofa reading a book, Dazai's head resting snugly in his lap. Chuuya treasured their moments like this, the serenity of it all. He hated the lingering worry that lodged in his chest, the dull certainty that this was all just the calm before an unsurvivable storm. That feeling followed him around like a plague, giving Chuuya all the more reason to savour moments like this one.

Chuuya had weathered many storms in his life. He'd do it all again if it meant he could keep Dazai like this, happy and comfortable and _his_.

At Arahabaki's soft rumble of content Dazai raised an eyebrow, and Chuuya smiled apologetically. Arahabaki had been vocal, recently, to the point even Dazai was starting to get used to the occasional disembodied grumbles. Such activity would usually worry Chuuya, but the beast hadn't made any attempts to escape, to break Chuuya's mind so he could take over. The deity would never succeed even if it did try - Chuuya knew that for a fact, and so did Arahabaki. It was what kept their agreement stable.

"Come on Dazai, lunch." He nudged Dazai's side as an idea sprung to mind "Ooh, do you want to go to the beach later? I could pop us over to Hawaii or something, didn't you say you wanted to go there?"

Dazai hummed in thought at that, rolling up and off of Chuuya's lap, flopping onto the beanbag instead. "Mm, nah. Can't be bothered to deal with beaches today."

Chuuya nodded at that, closing his book and floating it over to the bookshelf. "I'll probably do some research for the rest of the afternoon, then."

He avoided meeting Dazai's eyes, could feel the glare of disapproval aimed at him. Dazai had already shared his opinion on Chuuya's research, which Chuuya had of course ignored. It seemed he was planning on sharing again, if the intensity of his gaze was any indication.

"You know you don't have to do this research, yeah? Mori's always been a bastard, it's best to just see what happens and roll with the punches. And.. well, I don't think the amount of time you're spending on all this research is.. you know, good for you."

"Oh I'm sorry, _Mom_" it was meant to be snarky fun, but the joke fell flat seeing as neither of them actually had a Mother. Chuuya sighed. Dazai was concerned for him and it was good, it was _important_ that Dazai was able to express things like that. Still…

"Look, I know I don't have to do it, but Mori's been out to get me for over a century and something has finally changed. After all this time of waiting he's actively started moving and there _has_ to be a reason. He wouldn't move against me if he wasn't sure he could win."

Dazai sighed and Chuuya thought the conversation was over, but then he heard a deflated sounding mumble from the direction of the beanbag. "I forget how _old_ you are, sometimes. I don't know anything at all, do I?"

Chuuya frowned at that, turning to look at Dazai. He was staring down at the floor, head flopping over the side of the beanbag dramatically. "Come on, don't say that. You've lived with Mori for ten years, you've got insight into his way of thinking that I never had. He would've changed since I knew him.

Dazai sighed again, louder and more showy this time. "Chuuya. Stop ruining my pity party with logic, it's not _fair_." Chuuya rolled his eyes almost reflexively in response, but he knew that Dazai's retort meant he felt a bit better. Good.

"Whatever. Lunch, yeah? How about salad, nice and light?"

As expected Dazai's face twisted into an expression of disgust at that suggestion, nose wrinkling. Chuuya laughed, quickly backtracking "Okay, _I'll_ have a salad and you can have.. hmm, cheese toastie?"

"Yes!" Cheese toastie was apparently much more agreeable. Chuuya stood and stretched, muscles aching horribly. It was an effort not to wince. Repeated long nights spent at his desk had left his body sore and tense, but Chuuya tried not to dwell on it. It'd be worth it if he could just figure things out. He could take away any advantage that Mori had and secure a safe future for himself - and for Dazai.

Chuuya stared at Dazai, his deceptively innocent eyes. Chuuya's gaze lingered on soft lips that were gracing Chuuya with smiles even more frequently these days. Those smiles filled him with strength. He had to persevere. It was the only way to protect _this_.

The soft glow of lamplight wasn't enough to work in, but Chuuya didn't want to face the harshness of bright ceiling lights, not now. It was three in the morning and he'd been working without break since he'd shared lunch with Dazai. He'd checked in on Dazai's whereabouts every few hours - Dazai had spent a good deal of time in a new series of passageways the house had made just for him to explore, and he'd also made himself dinner okay. Chuuya hadn't eaten, but that was unimportant.

Dazai had gone off to bed almost two hours ago, now. Chuuya had felt a pang of guilt when he'd suddenly realised that Dazai had probably been waiting up for him, to say goodnight. That guilt had been swept away as he'd turned the page of his book and caught sight of another spell that could potentially be used by Mori.

Chuuya owned a lot of magic books. He was going through them all, brainstorming strategies that Mori could potentially use to break his defences, adding any and all useful spells he discovered to a list. Chuuya knew at least a thousand spells off the top of his head - including a rather tricky one for memory enhancement. There were thousands more that he did not know, and he kept researching in the hopes he'd come across spells Mori might consider using.

If he knew what spells Mori could come at him with, he could take preventative measures to shut them down. If he didn't know in advance.. well, that wasn't a risk Chuuya was prepared to take, not when it came to protecting Dazai.

Working through the possible applications of every spell in existence was impossible, but Chuuya was going to take a damn good shot at it. At least then when Mori did attack Chuuya could face it with a calm mind, knowing that he'd done all the preparation he could.

He paused, pen hovering above the paper of his old notebook. In a sudden swell the air around him shifted into something prickly and unsettling - his house's way of telling him that something was wrong. Chuuya stood, ignoring his pen as it fell to the floor. He reached out to the house with his mind, letting it take him through the corridors and hallways, guiding him to the problem.

_Dazai's room_.

Chuuya was there in a second, teleporting outside the door. He took a moment to listen, trying to hear whatever the house was alerting him to. He strained his ears, blood running cold as he heard a faint, strained whimper that was unmistakably from Dazai.

His tired mind threw the possibilities at him as he swung open the door. Mori could have found a way in, or Dazai could be having a breakdown, or-

A pause as Chuuya scanned the room. He didn't see any threats but what he did see was Dazai, thrashing and twisting in the bedsheets, soft noises of distress called out into the darkness of the room.

"Sensei stop, please, _please-_"

_Oh_. Dazai was having a nightmare. Chuuya winced as a pained whimper left the tangle of bedsheets; he supposed it was only natural, for Dazai to dream of memories that had only been recently returned to him.

Still.. Dazai's panicked pleading had sounded clear, coherent. Desperate. Maybe Dazai was more conscious than asleep, now - trapped in his nightmare but floating close enough of the surface that perhaps it would be best to wake him entirely,

Chuuya was about to move forward - to do what he wasn't sure, but he knew he had to do _something_. Instead Dazai acted first, springing from the bed with a gasp as if scalded, white bedsheet still tangled around him. Not knowing what else to do Chuuya reached out and turned on the bedside lamp, only for Dazai to _shriek_ and throw himself into the wardrobe with a speed Chuuya had almost forgotten he possessed.

Dazai slammed the wardrobe door behind him, leaving Chuuya to stare at a closed door and wonder what on Earth he was supposed to do now.

He reasoned that Dazai couldn't really be asleep, not after movements like _that_. He warily approached the closet but Dazai must have heard his footsteps because he started pleading from behind the door, a close to incoherent babbling that was wet with tears and made Chuuya's heart clench in sympathy.

"C-can we stop for today please, Sensei? I've been good, I've been good so can we please.. please stop… please…" the crying devolved into panicked sobbing and Chuuya felt every desperate 'please' like a blow to his chest.

There was only one person Chuuya knew that Dazai would have any reason to call Sensei. A man that Chuuya was going to kill.

Not knowing what else to do Chuuya cracked the wardrobe door open, peeking inside. He hoped that seeing his face would help to calm Dazai down but he just started sobbing harder, a shivering ball huddled in the corner of the closet. The sheet was wrapped tight around him now - in a deliberate cocoon or a messy tangle, Chuuya wasn't sure.

He forced himself to take slow, calming breaths through his nose as he observed the situation. Dazai was _bleeding_ \- that awfully familiar black blood oozing out of his scars. It had gotten everywhere; the blood was smeared across the bedsheet and staining the pastel blue, mackerel patterned pyjama set that he'd bought Dazai as a joke. That seemed such a long time ago, now.

In a moment of sudden clarity Chuuya realised what was happening. Every Mage that apprenticed in dark magic experienced this - their magic would turn against them and they'd be faced with their own worst memories in the form of horrible nightmares. It was a test of sorts that every dark Mage had to undergo, but Dazai shouldn't be -

Ah. Mori.

During their encounter last week Mori must have riled the magic inside Dazai, shifted it from its dormant state into something more active. Chuuya reached out with his mind, and sure enough he felt the dark energy moving inside Dazai, restless. Chuuya could coax it back to sleep, but he'd have to get Dazai through this round of nightmares first.

Dazai sniffled - a loud, wet thing - before he started to speak again. His voice came in frantic mumbles, Chuuya struck suddenly by how _young_ Dazai sounded. "I don't like pain, you know I don't like pain. You use that lube but it doesn't _work. _It's just too much Sensei, please, please not again."

Chuuya felt his blood freeze in his veins, could have sworn his heart stopped pumping. It all started again in a rush as Arahabaki _roared_ inside him, the intensity of his outrage practically blinding. Chuuya stumbled, catching himself on the side of the wardrobe. His head felt as though it had split in half as Arahabaki screamed over and over, demanding blood. Revenge. Chuuya forced the feelings down even as they tried to overwhelm him, snuff out his rationality. Rage wasn't going to help Dazai right now. Mori could wait - Dazai was the priority.

Dazai would always be the priority.

"Pet." He kept his voice gentle, surprised at how steady it sounded. His hands were trembling. It felt so deeply wrong to call Dazai _that_ at a time like this, but Chuuya was sure the nickname was unique to him, to _them_. He hoped desperately that the unique familiarity of it might help ground Dazai, bring him back to the present.

"It's me, it's Chuuya, yeah? If you come out of there I'll make you some hot chocolate. It's not crab, but I think you'll like it."

When Chuuya had first started talking Dazai had frozen up, his whole body going rigid. Even his terrified trembles had halted in favour of going perfectly still. But at the mention of hot chocolate Dazai cautiously peeked up at Chuuya, who offered him the most reassuring smile he could manage. It was hard not to get distracted by the overwhelming urge to kill Mori, and to make it _hurt_.

"C-Chuuya? Where's Sensei?"

It was a relief to hear his own name from Dazai's lips, the words a desperately needed confirmation that Dazai could at least _recognise_ him. Chuuya smiled brighter. He wanted to punch something. Arahabaki wanted to punch something. But no, that would not help Dazai.

"Mori can't reach you here. You're in my home, remember? Come on now, just come out of the closet. I'll even carry you to the kitchen, sound good?"

Ten seconds of hesitation and Dazai finally nodded his head. It was a quick, jerky movement, but agreement all the same. Chuuya let himself deflate with a silent sigh of relief as Dazai clambered out of the wardrobe, letting the ruined bedsheet fall to the ground.

"I'm with you? Definitely no Mori?"

It took a good deal of power and concentration, but Chuuya managed to fire off a spell that cleaned all the black blood off of Dazai's body. Dazai didn't seem to notice, a testament to how out of it he was.

"Nope, no Mori. You're with me, of course - would Mori ever get you pyjamas that cool? Huh?"

He gestured to the mackerel patterned pyjamas Dazai wore. The blood would stain them forever, unfortunately. It was the work of magic, dark magic at that, so even Chuuya wouldn't be able to work out the blotches of black. Dazai looked down at the pastel blue shorts and shirt before frowning, shaking his head. "No. Sensei doesn't allow pyjamas."

Chuuya couldn't keep the smile on his face, not at that. It dropped as he sighed before scooping Dazai up in his arms, holding him in a princess carry. Dazai didn't so much as wiggle in potest. "Fuck that shit. Cocoa time."

Chuuya made himself a cup of hot cocoa too, not wanting Dazai to feel awkward drinking alone - not that Dazai seemed too eager to drink anything. He was just staring down into his cup, quiet. Chuuya didn't mind the silence; he was watching Dazai closely for any signs of another panic attack, or perhaps some kind of flashback into his past.

Dazai spoke suddenly, breaking the silence even as he didn't lift his gaze from the table. "I was fourteen, the first time."

Chuuya almost choked on his drink. "Dazai, you don't have to tell me that if you don't want to. You don't have to tell me _anything_."

A shrug was the only response Chuuya got to that, before Dazai looked up at him. His eyes weren't the dead, empty things Chuuya had half expected - they were red rimmed from crying, still a little shiny with tears. Alive and bright with emotions, even the bad ones.

"Did you know, when you were working with him? That he had a thing for kids?"

Chuuya shifted uncomfortably, resting his head on the palm of his hand, glancing off at the wall. He didn't want to have this conversation, but if Dazai was strong enough to have it then he supposed he'd just have to be strong enough, too.

"I dunno. I had a suspicion, I guess? Nothing concrete. I didn't think he'd.. actually do it."

Dazai just nodded and finally picked up his mug of hot chocolate, taking a long, thoughtful sip. His face betrayed no reaction but he kept drinking, so Chuuya supposed the cocoa was at least tolerable. Silence stretched for a few minutes then, and Chuuya was starting to think he'd have to be the one to start up the next conversation. Then Dazai spoke again, hands gripping his mug as if it were a lifeline.

"Oda was there, in the nightmare. Watching as Mori.. well, you know."

With a pained sigh Dazai shuddered, a horrified, full body thing. Chuuya didn't even know what he was possibly supposed to say to that, so he went with the only thing he could manage. "I'm sorry." He murmured, and Dazai nodded in quiet acknowledgment before turning back to his drink, sipping slowly.

Chuuya had made himself a mug so that Dazai hadn't had to drink alone, but the first sip of his own hot chocolate had clung to his throat like syrup, a sickly sweet thing that made his stomach turn. He'd mixed it perfectly, too, he'd just.. never been able to eat or drink, not in situations like.. like this.

The thought of it was sickening enough. Dazai had been fourteen - it had probably taken months, _years_ for him to even really understand the severity of what Mori was doing to him. Even then Dazai had never exactly been one to see the worth of his own body. Not until recently, at least.

"Chuuya… is there a reason I had a nightmare like that? Now, of all times?"

Chuuya nodded at that, relieved the topic was turning towards something he knew how to talk about, something he could _help_ with. "Yeah, actually." Dazai looked surprised, as though he'd only asked to erase the possibility of their being a reason behind the nightmare, as though he really thought his mind was fucked enough to throw something like _that_ at him. Maybe it was, Chuuya wouldn't know.

"When Mori confronted us the other day, I think he messed with that magic inside you a bit. Made it active. Magic like ours.. it'll reach into the darkest corners of your mind and drag up whatever it can reach."

Dazai sniffled then, on the verge of tears, and for a moment Chuuya was overwhelmingly touched that Dazai would show such emotion in front of him. They'd come so far in the last three months.

"I hate it." The words were spat with venom despite Dazai's broken voice. Angry words, without any passion to back them up. No wonder - it was four in the morning, they were both exhausted. "I hate that _he's_ the worst thing in my head. I've seen more, done so much more than what he's done to me. I've killed, tortured people.. so _why_? Why is it always him?"

"Just because you've done some shitty things doesn't excuse what Mori did to you, not for a second." Chuuya found himself biting out the words, Arahabaki's anger suddenly flaring. Yes, Dazai had murdered and tortured people, but he never would have done any of that if Mori hadn't entered his life in the first place. Chuuya was sure of it; Dazai was a good person at heart, even if he'd never see it himself.

Chuuya remembered that Odasaku had said similar things, once upon a time.

"I ah.. I have a friend." Chuuya wasn't sure if now was the right time to voice his idea, but he worried he'd forget about it entirely if he waited until morning. "An Enchantress. She could make a charm for you, so you forget the rape."

He almost stumbled over the word, but he refused to skirt around it. Dazai had been raped. Mori had raped Dazai. Mori was a disgusting bastard, and Chuuya was going to make him pay double for every second he'd tainted in Dazai's life.

"_We will make him regret_" Arahabaki's words were a deep rumble inside him, and for once Chuuya found himself in somber agreement with the beast's plans.

Dazai was staring at him, and Chuuya realised that he'd been clenching his fists harder than was explainable. He offered a sheepish smile and Dazai raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on it. "And this charm won't make me forget the experiments…?"

"No, not the experiments." Chuuya was quick to reassure. "You'll still know that Mori is a fucked up bastard that you shouldn't go anywhere near. You'll just forget the whole pedophile part. If you try to remember it you'll just feel like something bad happened, but you won't remember what. Yosano will make the charm, I'll apply the spell. Simple"

Dazai nodded thoughtfully at the suggestion, taking a long drink of his cocoa, tipping his head back to drain the mug. He didn't seem to notice the cream moustache it left him with. Chuuya managed to hold back his smile at the sight, but it was a close thing.

"Yosano, is that your friend's name?"

"Yeah. She's incredibly skilled at weaving long lasting magic into items. All of these." Chuuya gestured to the feathers in his hair, the four necklaces he was currently adorned with, even his bracelets. "They're all her handiwork. Well, a few are mine, but they're amateur compared to hers. In fact.."

Chuuya plucked a gold ring off of his little finger, staring at it through narrowed eyes before sighing, placing it down on the table. "Yeah, the charms just about worn off of that one. Shame, it was one of my better attempts - was supposed to attract good luck."

"And did it?" Dazai seemed skeptical. Chuuya found it amusing that after all the magical things Dazai had seen in his house, charms would be the thing he'd have a hard time believing in. Perhaps because unlike other spells you couldn't always see their effects straight away.

"Hm, good luck? Well, it brought you to me, didn't it?" Dazai finally smiled at that, a small but sincere thing, and Chuuya grinned in response. "Terribly sappy, I know. Well? What do you think about getting a charm for those memories? They're pretty old, should be easy to erase."

Of course Dazai didn't answer right away - instead he stood and walked around the table so he could get a better look at Chuuya's hair. Feathers of various colours were braided into it, along with small jewels and gold rings. Chuuya raised an eyebrow at the scrutiny and after a minute of staring and teasing tugging at Chuuya's braids Dazai stepped back, meeting Chuuya's eyes.

"So those are all charms? I thought Chuuya just liked looking shiny."

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at that, but he was glad to see that Dazai was apparently feeling a little better. Good. Maybe the hot chocolate had helped after all. "Watch it, pet. Do you want this stupid charm or not?"

"Fiiine. I guess if Chuuya's offering I have no choice!"

With an exasperated sigh Chuuya stood, taking Dazai's hand and teleporting them both to Chuuya's bedroom. He knew Dazai well enough by now to know that his response meant 'yes, but I don't want to admit I'm accepting help'

"Come on, lets get some sleep. Tomorrow we can go choose your charmed object."

Dazai nodded and flopped onto Chuuya's bed, quickly burying himself under the covers like a worm to earth. A moment later he peeked his head out to look at Chuuya. "Wait, my what?"

Chuuya started changing his clothes, shrugging off his shirt, sharing a private smirk with himself as he felt the intensity of Dazai's gaze glued to his back. It was nice to feel appreciated.

"The charm isn't just going to attach itself to you, is it? You need an object, like a ring or a bracelet or something. If you take it off you'll remember everything again."

"Huh." Chuuya pulled on a sleep shirt before joining Dazai in the bed, turning the light off without further ado. He was _tired_. He'd been too focused to feel it before, but it had just hit him all at once, like a particularly fast train.

"Goodnight Dazai."

"Night, Chuuya. I suppose it's time to go shopping tomorrow, mm?"

Chuuya didn't bother responding. He was already half way to sleep.

As it turned out, tomorrow was _not_ the day to go shopping. It was evident from the moment Chuuya woke that Dazai had a fever - he'd thrown the covers off of himself and was sweating terribly, which was very unlike him.

Chuuya started trying to wake Dazai, hoping to get some food in him. He grew increasingly panicked when his efforts got no response other than delirious, half conscious mumbles.

It was after ten minutes of frantic attempts to wake Dazai that Chuuya realised what was wrong, and the reality of the situation hit him _hard_. He had to sit back and stare at Dazai's feverish body for a full minute as he realised what he'd _done_, or more accurately what he'd _forgotten_ to do.

"Oh no. Oh no no no, Dazai, wake up, _please_ wake up-"

But Dazai did not wake up, and Chuuya knew that he would not be waking up for some time. Not for another forty eight hours. Forty eight hours of living hell - and it was entirely Chuuya's fault.

Trigger Warnings: rape of a minor is discussed. Dazai has a flashback reliving the experience, but we do not see from Dazai's, we see it from Chuuya's - who walks in on Dazai having the flashback. So it's not very descriptive but it could definitely make some people unsettled.

Welcome to chapter: these boys are both a mess but hey, at least together they're slightly less of a mess? Also Chuuya really _really_ needs to take a break. He is very much overworking and there _will_ be consequences to that, as we've started to see at the end of this chapter. Yay!

Okay so this was written and edited partly on a plane and then also the next day on three hours of sleep so! If its shit I apologise sincerely.


	13. 13 : Existing

Thirteen: Existing

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As of writing this chapter I have sunburnt my face, my arms, my chest, my kNEES, THE BACKS OF MY KNEES, my stomach, my legs and my TOES. Just thought I should share. Now, on to the angst!

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The magic had taken hold and there was no way to stop it - it was a simple process that all Mages knew of, and that just made his failure to prevent it hurt all the more. Chuuya could do nothing but watch Dazai's prone body, and that was quite possibly the hardest part of it all. It gave him time to reflect, at least. Reflect on how badly he'd messed up.

The Trial. Apprentices would be unconscious for two days, facing their own magic in whatever form it would choose to take inside of their head. The magic would destroy the apprentice, if they failed to overcome it. The Apprentices would resist until they gained full control of the energy inside them, or they would die.

He had gone through this process himself, many centuries ago now. Chuuya knew first hand how difficult it could be, how terrifying. It made his heart ache knowing that Dazai was going through that now, compleltey unpreapred.

Chuuya was sat beside Dazai on the bed, staring at him through tired eyes. He'd dabbed at Dazai's sweaty forehead every few hours with a cool sponge, knowing it was helping nobody but himself. It had been five hours of since Chuuya had woken up with Dazai's feverish, twitching body beside him. Every hour that went by weighed on him heavier than the last.

Dazai's feet and hands were as cold as any dead man's, but his forehead was burning with fever. Chuuya had taken his temperature two hours ago - Dazai was reading at 112 degrees, well over the safe limit. If this was a normal fever Dazai would be dead by now, but the magic was keeping him alive. Still, if the temperature climbed any higher it'd mean that Dazai was losing to the magic. Chuuya would have to rush him to a proper healer if it got to that point, but even then they wouldn't be able to do much.

_This is my fault._

Chuuya felt the wetness of tears sliding down himself before he even noticed the burn of it in his eyes. This was almost routine, now. Every hour or so he'd remind himself how badly he'd messed up and end up crying all over again. His head was aching from dehydration, but he didn't want to drink. Didn't feel he deserved the luxury.

Chuuya wanted so badly to be hopeful, to be certain that Dazai's strength could get him through this, that he could survive the energy inside him. But Chuuya _wasn't_ hopeful - Mages usually went into this with weeks of emotional and physical preparation. If they were able they'd often set up their own wards and charms to aid themselves in the process.

Dazai had nothing. Dazai likely didn't have a clue what was even happening to him - he'd been thrown into this Trial that had _killed_ countless Apprentice Mages, and he was more unprepared and uninformed than any of them had ever been. All because Chuuya had forgotten to put the magic back to sleep.

Chuuya picked at the edges of the duvet, chewed anxiously at his lip until he tasted blood, but he didn't care about _that_. Dazai was going into this with far more energy in him than any regular Apprentice would have. He wasn't ready. Chuuya would have trained him for a least a _year_ before he put him through this.

He'd likely never get the chance to train him at all, now.

There was nothing to be done. Nothing at all he could do, and Chuuya hated that almost as much as the fact that he'd put Dazai in this situation in the first place. Arahabaki was thrashing inside him, damning Chuuya for his stupidity. Chuuya wholeheartedly agreed with the beast's scathing words. This was his fault. Dazai was probably going to die, and it was his fault.

He'd just been so tired…

Chuuya shook his head, pulling his knees up to his chest as he kept a careful eye on Dazai's body. He'd been restless at first, shifting and panting, but now he was quiet, still on the bed. Chuuya focused on the rise and fall of Dazai's chest, the only thing telling him that Dazai was still alive.

He just had to hope he stayed that way. That somehow, despite the odds, Dazai could overcome this.

* * *

The first sign that something was wrong was that he was holding a gun. He hadn't held a gun since he'd first tried to kill Chuuya three months ago and yet here it was, the handle of his pistol settled into his palm, familiar. His Sauer P226 in perfect condition.

Dazai stepped carefully through the darkness that surrounded him on all sides, enveloping him. He couldn't see a thing but that didn't stop his slow but steady steps - Mori had trained him to fight blind. If he had to, he would.

The silent, slow walk through the dark gave Dazai time to think. His mind raced with the possibilities, sorting through the endless number of factors that could hint to where he was, _why_ he was here. Was it another dream? No, he didn't feel at all like he was asleep. Whatever this was, it wasn't _real_. It couldn't be, not when he had his gun. Yet he felt alert, present, not at all like he was sleeping.

"I'm supposed to destroy you, did you know?"

A voice, speaking directly in his ear. Dazai turned with a start. With a rush the darkness receded around him to reveal a plain white floor underfoot. There were no walls, just empty space and a faint light coming from above.

A figure rose from the floor, a pulsing mass of black. It shifted and writhed until it had formed a vaguely humanoid figure, standing about five feet away. It didn't have a solid form, nor a face. It seemed to be made of a mass of shadows and not much else. When it spoke a mouth of sorts seemed to form; a gaping hole lined with two rows of cracked, wickedly sharp teeth.

"I didn't quite know what form to take, I'm afraid." The figure reached out a growth of black mass, and Dazai realised it was supposed to resemble a hand. As the creature stared down at itself two eyes, milky white without any pupils or iris formed. The creature seemed to inspect it's body, before turning its nightmarish, empty eyes back to Dazai.

"There are so many people I could use to break you. Mori, maybe Hirotsu. Ango could do it. Oda, definitely. Perhaps even dear Chuuya's body would work. So many possibilities, I just couldn't _choose_!"

Dazai's mind raced to pull the puzzle pieces into a sensical picture, pushing aside the pain some of those names bought. He _wouldn't_ be bested. This.. _thing_, whatever it was, it had said it wanted to destroy him. It was considering taking the form of people he knew to do so.

His nose wrinkled. The thing was lying. It said it couldn't choose what body to mimic, but from its speech patterns, its movements.. it had already chosen.

"Mori. You talk like him, even if you look like.. that"

Oh, how things had changed. Speaking the man's name alone was enough to make Dazai's stomach churn with nausea. Mori.. anyone from the Port Mafia would call this kind of reaction a weakness. Chuuya.. Chuuya would probably call it strength, have some kind of reason that made sense because it was Chuuya saying it. Dazai.. Dazai didn't know what to think, anymore.

"I'm afraid not. I was Mori's energy until a little while ago, so I suppose it's easy enough for me to model my behaviour after his, _vile_ worm that he is. But I was in him, and now I'm in an untrained little thing like you. It's really not a nice change."

Dazai forced himself to keep thinking, to connect the dots. Now was not the time to get distracted by a silly little thing like emotions. Hangovers from his part could be dealt with later, he had to focus on _now_.

"You're the magic? The magic he put in me? You are, aren't you? Chuuya said that Mori activated you. That you're.. testing me."

The creature had been smiling before, all teeth and malice. It wasn't smiling anymore.

"Oh you _dear_ little thing, you haven't a clue. Yes, I'm that energy inside you, years and years of built up magic. You could never hope to beat me, do you understand? This won't be a _test_."

Dazai thought the thing sounded sad, almost, a little sympathetic. Was he really so outmatched? Was he going to be destroyed like this, with no chance at all to win?

No. No, absolutely not. That was not how he was about to go out.

He raised his gun.

The creature laughed. "Are you going to _shoot_ me? You can't, _Osamu_. Remember when you tried to shoot Chuuya all those months ago? The gun is empty. Magic can't be killed by _bullets_, boy."

Dazai could feel it, all of a sudden. They weight of his gun was off - it was empty. The gun was empty. His only defence, gone. He didn't have any knives, any weapons, nothing to-

_No_.

This wasn't real. They were inside _his_ head. He would not let this _Energy_ make the rules, no matter how strong it was. They were in his domain.

A crack, ringing sharp and clear as he shot the gun. The mass of writhin shadows looked surprised as it fell to the floor - its eyes were impossibly wide, its hole of a mouth gaping open in shock. Dazai stared as it fell, hit the ground with a dull thud.

He took a slow breath, lowered the gun to his side. He was beginning to think about what he was supposed to do next, when the creature rose again. It didn't stand, simply rose to its feet in an arc impossible for anything with a spine - or any kind of bones at all.

The thing laughed, its voice still horribly _human_ compared to the rest of it.

"Well well, I didn't expect that. Don't think you've won though, not for a second. The broken boy I've been trapped inside shouldn't have been able to shoot that gun, but it doesn't matter. Bullets can't kill _me_. This doesn't end with you turning out to be some miraculously brilliant Mage that overcomes me through force of will or some nonsense - you _don't_ win this. It's impossible."

Dazai didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. He really didn't expect the magical energy to ever have such a strong personality, such a sense of self. He thought Arahabaki was an isolated incident, being an actual being with will. Energy.. Chuuya had never said anything about the energy being like this.

"I've been eating away at you for years, you know? Containing power like me, it takes a toll on an untrained body. _I_ am the reason for your fatigue, your numbness. Part of it, at least. You managed the rest of it just fine on your own."

Dazai raised his gun to shoot again, if only so he didn't have to hear these words. Oh, how wonderful it would be to get answers, but if the price for them was being reminded how _empty_ he'd felt for years, then he didn't want to hear it. Before he could bring himself to shoot again the being started walking towards him, making him pause.

Dazai took a step back as the thing approached but it walked right past him, to the newly formed table that had appeared behind him. It was round, glass topped, two chairs on either side. It reminded Dazai of a table he'd sat at before, in a fancy French cafe Odasaku had taken him to once upon a time. Dazai stepped towards it, before he realised with a start that this actually _was_ that table. The creature sat at it, collapsing into the chair with a slosh of shadows, gestured for Dazai to do the same. He did so tentatively, gun still held securely, ready.

Tense silence as they stared at each other - Dazai's eyes locked with those milky white _things_ that should have been unseeing, yet felt like they were staring right through to his soul. For a moment it reminded him of Chuuya, how he could see magic energy when he wasn't looking with his eyes.

"I don't want to destroy you."

The creature's form slumped after the admission, a boneless flop back in its chair. Only it's head stayed up, neck elongating and bending at an impossible angle while what should have been shoulders spilt over the back of the chair in globs of shadow. It was equally horrifying and fascinating to watch, and Dazai found he was not at all surprised that Mori's energy looked something like _this_.

"Why did you say you'd destroy me in the first place, then? What is.. here?" Dazai gestured around himself, at the endless stetch of white floor and strange, hazy light from above. If he could just know what this place was then maybe he could escape it, get back to Chuuya.

The creature smiled it's toothy grin, and Dazai noticed that it's mouth had more of a shape to it now. Lips, still black and shadowy but _firm_, not the dripping, liquidy mess of before. "Ah you're a clever thing, buying time. But I'll tell you anyway, it's only fair. Drink."

Dazai stared down at the ornate china teacup that had appeared in front of him. It was full of black, viscous liquid - the same kind the embodied Energy seemed to be made of. He looked back up at the creature, shaking his head. "No."

A frown. Eyebrows downturned to match it, and Dazai was sure the thing didn't have eyebrows before, but now it did - they were thick, raised lumps above its eyes. "No? Okay, then. _Now_. Drink."

A glance down at the cup showed that it was now full of what looked to be tea. Deciding to take the risk Dazai picked up his cup at the same time the creature lifted its own. They sipped in tandem, and as far as Dazai could tell it was actually tea, strong and disgusting.

"There, refreshments. Polite of me. Now then... Apprentice Mages start to grow little pools of energy inside of them. This pool grows over time, as the little Mage's knowledge, ability, power does. The Trial is a ritual designed to make sure those Mages are capable -worthy- of wielding their own power. The teacher initiates it and the Apprentice goes to sleep for two of your human days, facing the Energy inside their own minds. Understand?"

Dazai nodded slowly. It made sense in the way that all things pertaining magic did; in a confusing way that was a struggle to understand, but it was possible if he tried hard enough and let the idea of it bend the edges of sense.

"Yes. So this is the Trial, then? Mori activated it?"

"He did. The energy the little Mage's face is a raw, untamed thing. It will rip them apart unless it's brought to heel. There is no chance to negotiate - if the Mage's can't defeat their own magic then it takes over their mind, blazing a path of destruction. Their own teacher's will have to put them down."

Dazai paused then, mulling it over in his head. This was still making sense, all of it, but what the creature was saying didn't quite fit with what Dazai was experiencing here and now. It was a risk to bring it up, but if he was right…

Dazai realised with sudden clarity that it didn't matter. He didn't have any other cards to play.

"You're not pure energy." It had been a guess, but as he spoke the words Dazai understood that they were true "You think and feel, you're not some hungry destructive thing. You're.. you're a Deity, like the Arahabaki."

The creature's eyes widened, and Dazai noticed with a rush that there were pupils in those eyes now, surrounded by rings of soft green. This wasn't just some faceless blob of shadows, not anymore, it was becoming _more_. The creature laughed suddenly, surprised, and the noise floated in the space around them like the chime of bells carried on wind.

"How on Earth did you..? You were close little thing, really. I am not some God. I am a simple Sprite of the wind, but I was _free, _once. Mori.. the Warlock caught me, consumed me. Centuries ago he beat me into submission and dissolved me into his pool of Energy. I am.. a shell of my former self, and I slept for many decades, but I am still here. He does not remember, but here I am. _Existing_."

Dazai smiled. It was amazing how quickly one could go from having no cards at all to a full hand.

"Why are you here now, then? If Mori forgot about you his pool of Energy must have been greater than you, drowned out your presence. But you seem.. whole, mostly. How?"

"You are a _clever_ little thing, for a human. I am truly impressed, I am. Whenever Mori transferred his magic into you, I used what little consciousness I had left to make sure I went with it. The amount of magic inside your body is nothing compared to the total inside of Mori, so my presence is no longer drowned out. I am here again, not a scattering of consciousness but a _being_. Well, barely a being, but still more than I was."

The creature spoke in a mix of facts and poetry, words extended past the point of necessity. It reminded Dazai of himself, in a way - weaving simple words into an elegant thing. For him such a manner of speaking served many purposes, but Dazai got the feeling that for this creature, this Wind Sprite, it was just the way they spoke.

"Why didn't you reveal yourself to me earlier? Why pretend to just be energy and nothing more?"

The creature shrugged, the matter of its shoulders having risen back up from where it had dripped behind the chair. They were solid things now, settled in their anatomically correct place, gentle curves that lead down to.. well, the arms were still meshing with the torso a little, but they were at least _arms_.

"There is the energy, and then there is me. It has taken me time to separate the two of us. We've spent centuries as one. The magic still wishes to overwhelm and destroy you, but I can delay it, allow your Sorcerer to put it back to sleep until you are ready."

"You'll do that? You'll let me leave, wake up again?"

A sigh. The Sprite's teeth had smoothened, down from sharp points to normal, human looking things. Ears were starting to form, pointed at the tips. It was still a structure made of black shadows, rippling and inky in their depth - horrifying, but Dazai had seen worse. "Yes, I suppose I will do that. It is lonely here, little human. I would not condemn you to stay here forever, even if it would ease my isolation. Such selfish acts aren't my nature."

"I appreciate it." He meant the words sincerely, and the spirit offered him a smile. He still seemed so sad, and it was painfully obvious to Dazai that he owed the wind spirit a favour. They were allowing him to live. They could just as easily allow the Energy to tear him apart.

"I'll free you." The Sprite was suddenly alert, eyes entirely focused on Dazai's face. "I'll let you go, let you out of me. Chuuya will know a way, I'm sure of it."

"You are sweet, for a human." The Sprite nodded consideringly, turning its head to stare off into the space around them. "The process will be complicated." It warned, voice stern, "There is not enough of me left for my body to form in the material world, so you will have to attach me to some kind of object. But then.. oh human, even in an immaterial form it will be blissful to dance on the winds again."

Dazai did not know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. Instead he thought of Mori, of how he'd taken freedom away from a seemingly gentle Sprite, then viewed it as so insignificant that he didn't even notice the Sprite's disappearance. It was disgusting. Mori was disgusting.

"I could not bargain with you, trade your life for mine, as I do not have much of a life left to trade. But you have decided to give me my life anyway. A good human you are, a good thing that will grow to be a strong Mage, one day."

Those words were like a blow, an unexpected impact. The Sprite had lived in Mori - in Dazai, too. Surely it knew everything that Dazai had done, the atrocities he'd committed in Mori's name. Dazai did not understand how anyone who'd seen what he had done could sit across a table from him and call him _good_.

Yet here he was, with a Sprite that seemed insistent on praising him.

The Sprite stood and Dazai followed the movement, taking in the body that had now fully formed. It was still made of black shadow but it was solid at the least, shaped into a clear person. Kind eyes, a smiling mouth, gentle eyes that spoke of a kindness and generosity Dazai could only dream of. Even like this, the Sprite was more human than Mori would ever be.

"I'll wake you up now, I think. It's been about twenty hours - long enough. Get your Sorcerer to quieten the magic immediately or you will repeat this, and the Energy _will_ overwhelm you… you promise you'll free me, human?"

Dazai nodded, determined. "I promise."

A soft smile to the Sprite's face and Dazai felt the world start to fade out around him. It felt just like falling asleep, a slow easing out of the space around him, ready to be replaced with a new reality. A sudden thought came to him as he started to drift and he spoke, called out into the emptiness. "What's your name?" He asked, but his lips felt heavy and slow, and he was sure the words were unintelligible.

The Sprite answered anyway, voice drifting to Dazai's ears as the world tumbled away from him. A gentle voice, carried to him across realities by a faithful wind.

"Eivind."

* * *

They'd hit the twenty hour mark. Chuuya had spent the first seven hours staring at Dazai's prone body, hating himself. Then he'd started researching. He'd teleported all the books he could think of to his room and had started desperately trying to find some kind of hint that would let him pull Dazai out of the Trial, before it killed him.

Five hours later and Chuuya had convinced himself that he wasn't researching fast enough, so he'd called over Yosano. Yosano had taken one look at him and slapped him across the face, hard.

So here they were, twenty hours in and sitting in Chuuya's room, sharing toast and watching Dazai. Or at least, Chuuya was watching Dazai - Yosano was flipping through Chuuya's notebook, skimming the notes he'd made on Mori.

"You're being pathetic." Chuuya whipped his head around to glare and Yosano just shrugged, as if that would justify her words. Chuuya couldn't hold his glare for long - not more than five seconds later and he turned back to staring at Dazai.

He could look away for a second and in that second Dazai could either wake up or stop breathing. Yosano had said he was being pathetic several times in the last eight hours, but Chuuya hadn't cried _once_ in the past thirty minutes, so all things considered he was doing pretty okay.

"Could you at least _try_ to be hopeful that he'll wake up? It's like you're waiting for him to die. What, do you really hate the kid that much?"

Chuuya glared properly, then, energy crackling in the air around him, angry. His temper was thin and his head hurt from dehydration and if Yosano said any shit like that again, he was going to kick her out of his house, consequences be damned.

"I am _not_ waiting for Dazai to die! But he.. the Trial is hard enough as it is and he doesn't have any experience, and he has so much Energy, and I _love him_. _He can't die_." Chuuya was sobbing again, panicked, desperate things that made his chest burn and his throat ache in protest. Yosano's face softened into something gentler, her cool exterior dropping as she pulled her friend into a much needed hug, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"Shh Chuuya. You'll be fine, he'll be fine."

They both knew it wasn't true, but the false assurances helped regardless. Chuuya sniffled, trying to clear his mind. His thoughts kept wandering towards what he'd do if Dazai died, and he had no idea where he'd even begin. The thought alone felt like an unfillable hole in his chest, right where his heart was supposed to be.

His house, his magic, Arahabaki, Yokohama - all of it would be different if Dazai died now. The little fucker had wormed his way into every aspect of Chuuya's life without either of them realising it, and now Chuuya had no idea what he'd do if that just suddenly disappeared.

One thing he was certain of was that he'd never forgive himself. His own negligence had caused this. He should have known better than to push himself as hard as he had when he was trying so hard to protect a person who seemed to have the whole world stacked against them.

A gasp from the bed.

Chuuya turned, wide eyed, feeling as desperate as he ever had for it to be Dazai, _please be Dazai_. And there he was, Dazai had sat up on the bed and was blinking, adjusting himself, looking around the room.

Their eyes locked and it was Dazai, not some husk possessed by magic but _his Dazai_.

Chuuya didn't even care that he'd started crying again. The only thought in his head was that he needed to get Dazai in his arms and never let him go again. Never again.

"I'm so sorry." The words were out of his mouth in a rush, then again. "I'm so sorry, Dazai." Chuuya could feel hands in his hair - Dazai's hands or Yosano he wasn't sure but it didnt _matter_, he just needed Dazai to understand that he hadn't meant it, it was an accident and he was sorry, he was _so sorry_-

"_Chuuya_" Chuuya drew back to look at Dazai's face as a dry throat forced out his name. He stared into those beautiful brown eyes that hadn't lost a shred of their light, still shone bright with a life that Chuuya would treasure, now more than ever. "Put.. put the magic to sleep."

"S-Sure, okay." Chuuya's agreement came without thought but then he frowned, sharing a glance with Yosano, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "But Dazai, you've beaten the magic, its fine. It's yours now, it - oh. Oh, what happened?"

Dazai just shook his head, coughing, his throat horribly dry after twenty hours of sweating and unconsciousness. Yosano reached over to hand him a cup of water and Dazai accepted it with a polite smile, before raising an eyebrow at Chuuya in silent question; _who is she?_

"Dazai, this is my friend, Yosano. The Enchantress I told you about, remember?" Chuuya spoke as he worked, placing a hand on Dazai's chest and gently starting to soothe the magic that still riled inside him. None of this made any sense - Dazai hadn't completed the trial, he hadn't been unconscious for forty eight hours and he hadn't taken control over his energy, and yet he was awake.

"Nice to finally meet you, Dazai." Yosano's voice was kind, and Dazai offered her another quiet smile in response. "We can all head to the kitchen for some food and Dazai can explain things, how does that sound?"

Dazai nodded in apparent agreement and swung his legs off the side of the bed, standing. He stumbled on his first step and Chuuya reached out a hand to help him but Dazai brushed it away, steadying himself after a moment.

Then he looked up at Chuuya, wide eyed and _happy_, and Chuuya was almost overwhelmed by the wave of relief that crashed into him, taking his breath away. He had Dazai back. Dazai was _really back_, not dead, not a mindless thing that Chuuya would have to kill and oh Gods, Chuuya couldn't even think about it anymore. He'd be sick if he did.

"We can get crab, right?"

"Yes, we can have crab." His voice broke over the words but nobody mentioned it. Chuuya was grateful for that as he grasped the hands of his best friend and the most important person in his life, teleporting them all off to the kitchen.

* * *

"So you live in England?"

Yosano nodded, taking a long drink of the wine that Chuuya had poured her. She was used to stronger spirits, but Chuuya didn't think that now was an appropriate time for anyone to be getting drunk.

"Yeah, in a lovely little pine forest. I moved there to escape Mori, actually. We have.. history. A history where I never want to see the disgusting fucker again." She took another swig of her wine, and Chuuya realised that she'd magicked something stronger into it. Oh well. It was too late to stop her, now.

"It seems he does that to people. Weird that we've all know him, don't you think?"

Chuuya shrugged. They were sat around the kitchen table talking and eating sandwiches, but Dazai was yet to actually explain what had happened in The Trial. Chuuya was burning with a need to _understand_ but he forced himself to remain patient, not wanting to push Dazai to talk about it. "Nah, Mori's getting old. If you stick around long enough most Mages would've heard of you sooner or later."

"Like Chuuya." Yosano was glancing at him sidelong and Chuuya couldn't help but roll his eyes. The woman kept insisting that he was famous, had been for years. He disagreed. "Every Mage who knows anything knows about our dear Sorcerer over here. No one has ever succeeded in taming a God before."

Chuuya winced as Arahabaki grumbled inside him, the beast outraged at the suggestion he'd been 'tamed', but also appreciating the use of the term 'God' when he was in fact just a minor Deity. Chuuya liked to remind him of that whenever his ego started to swell.

"C'mon Yosano, if people know about me that's definitely _not_ the reason why. Nobody knows about Arahabaki except for you and Dazai. If everyone found out they'd come and try to steal him"

Yosano huffed, finishing off her wine only to refill the glass, not even trying to hide that she was refilling it with straight cherry brandy this time. "Maybe not, but they all know that you're insanely powerful. A lot think you're an urban legend, some kind of myth. You haven't shown your face in centuries."

Chuuya didn't miss the way that Dazai was staring at him, clearly curious. He sighed, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms - entirely fed up with the direction this conversation was going. "They're all _annoying_. There's.. look, if I go into it Dazai's going to start asking questions and I really don't want to explain _that_ right now. Another time, Yosano? Please?"

Yosano conceded with a nod and sigh and Chuuya offered her a weak smile in thanks, watching as she turned her head, directing her attention back to Dazai. "Don't be mean Chuuya, I bet he asks _wonderful_ questions, don't you darling?"

"What-?"

"Yosano!" Chuuya jumped to his feet, hands slamming down onto the table as he turned to glare at his friend, who blinked up at him innocently. "Can you maybe _not_ try to eat Dazai?"

The innocent look disappeared, replaced by a lazy smile. "Oh come _on_ Chuuya, do you think I'd really eat him? Me? I was just teasing."

"Um.. excuse me? What are you two on about?"

Yosano was quick to offer Dazai an apologetic smile, explaining herself before Chuuya could get a word in. "I'm an Enchantress, as you know. We can't produce energy of our own so we have to take it from other beings, lure them in through lust and greed and all that, then consume their souls. Can you guess how?"

"By, ah, eating them?"

Yosano nodded, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Yes. I go for the bone marrow myself, good connection to the soul there. I almost tried to eat Chuuya actually, a few centuries ago. He stumbled across my house and was, hah, _enchanted_."

"I never would've let you get me. Too bad for you I didn't fall for your charms."

Yosano rolled her eyes at that one, and Chuuya supposed he shouldn't have tried to brag. "Yes, because you didn't even like women to begin with. How was I supposed to know?"

Chuuya didn't dignify that with a response, shifting the conversation back to Dazai instead. "So. The Trial, Dazai. What.. what happened, exactly?"

Dazai grimaced, stared down at the empty plate in front of him that had once held a sandwich. "Well, uh.. I would've died, apparently, if I'd actually faced the energy Mori put inside me. But I didn't."

"You, uh.. you didn't?"

"No. There was a Sprite in there, that Mori consumed to boost his own power. Their name is Eivind. They saved my life, took control of the energy, let me leave - I promised to try and free them."

Yosano nodded thoughtfully "It can be done, I think. The dear Sprite will be weak, yes? I can anchor their soul to the wind itself, maybe. Then as long as there is wind in this world they will live."

"Eivind, huh.. you know, I think I've heard of that Sprite? Aren't they one of the twenty children of the Elyian mountains?"

Yosano's expression darkened. "Really? Those mountains are sacred, and Mori just… just like that? No, you know what? I'm not even surprised."

Dazai didn't have a clue what the Elyian mountains were supposed to be, and he didn't care. It didn't matter - a life was a life no matter where that life began, and Mori had taken Eivind's without a second thought. "Mori never has seen much value in the lives of others, not if it can be used to benefit himself, his means. This is typical for him."

Yosano and Chuuya both nodded in their agreement, and Dazai suddenly felt so very _strong_. It didn't matter if Mori was some brilliant evil Mage who'd been alive for centuries. There were two even more brilliant Mage's that wanted him gone from the world. Mori was a Warlock, an outcast in Magic society. Mori was hated, and for the first time ever Dazai found himself utterly certain that they _could_ beat him.

"Dazai? Something up?"

Dazai realised he'd been smiling to himself like an idiot, and he quickly shook his head in denial. "Ah, no, just thinking about dinner. Crab?"

Yosano started at him, aghast. "Didn't you _just_ have crab sandwiches?"

Chuuya nodded, a resigned thing. "Yeah. He's got a bit of an issue when it comes to crab. Do you want to stay for dinner when the time comes, Yosano?"

The woman shrugged, and Dazai decided that he didn't actually mind if she stayed. She was nice, a strong personality but caring. Chuuya trusted her and that was enough for Dazai to trust her, too. "Yeah, guess I'll stay. We can help free your Sprite, get some good food. Mm, I'm feeling a trip to Italy. How about it?"

"Huh. Yeah, Italy should be good. Dazai?"

_This is what being at home feels like_, Dazai realised as he smiled. Eivind had called him a good person. He wasn't, but in that moment Dazai dared to think that maybe if he tried hard enough he _could_ be. "Yeah. Yeah, Italy sounds nice."

* * *

My flight is delayed for five hours so here I am, posting this chapter a day earlier than I planned to because I'm so damned bored. Enjoy ! This was a bit of a long, chaotic chapter but it served its purpose well. Also ! Yosano !


	14. 14 : The Setting Sun

14: The Setting Sun

* * *

It took sixteen hours to release Eivind from Dazai's body.

Yosano and Chuuya had combined their individual knowledge on their specialist areas of magic to concoct a failsafe method to release Eivind from inside of Dazai. Dazai had spent most of that time hanging around the two busy Mages, watching them work and taking the opportunity to rest his tired body. He hadn't had to face the Magical Energy that lived inside of him, but the ordeal had still been draining. Physically. Mentally, too - Eivind was proof of just how truly monstrous Mori was, of the things that he would do for power. Things Dazai could never have known were even possible, not until meeting Eivind. So Dazai occasionally napped and mostly hung around to watch Yosano and Chuuya's diligent work, getting his first true look at the process behind magic.

Magic involved a lot more science than Dazai had ever anticipated - at least, the twisty weird kind of science that was the foundations of Sorcery. Dazai didn't understand most of what Chuuya and Yosano discussed as they worked, but they'd made an effort to include him in the conversation when they could, and that had been nice. After the first five hours they'd started getting really into it, and had stopped explaining things. Dazai hadn't been too bothered by that - it was nice to watch someone else do the thinking, to not have to be a part of it. Dazai didn't have to double check or make sure he understood every step of the process; he knew he could trust Chuuya to get it right.

Occasionally Chuuya had taken a break from running through calculations and staring at seemingly innocuous rocks to try explaining some more things to Dazai, talking him through some of the workings behind all the lists of numbers and weird diagrams Chuuya had made. Dazai still didn't really get it - according to Chuuya, it'd likely take years of training before he actually started to really understand any of it - but Chuuya had put his hair up into a bun and Dazai was really quite thankful for the opportunity to just stare. With everything that had happened with Mori and Eivind, Dazai hadn't had nearly enough time recently to just appreciate how beautiful Chuuya was. Beautiful and hot.

Chuuya was also apparently really, really smart. He was doing complicated maths on the spot and keeping track of almost eighty sheets of calculations all at once. Dazai supposed some of it came with age, but he was starting to realise that Chuuya was far more academically gifted than he'd ever let on. Dazai had never had a sense of just how much work went behind all the flashy magic before - the checking and double checking, the complex physics and endless lists of numbers. Chuuya moved through them all like he was born for it, like it was as easy as breathing, and Dazai couldn't help but stare, entranced by this world that he wasn't a part of. Not yet.

He'd caught Yosano rolling her eyes at his gawking, more than once. But she'd always smiled afterwards, so she probably didn't really mind his antics. Chuuya didn't notice Dazai's ogling. Or maybe he did notice and was enjoying the attention - Dazai could never really be sure, with Chuuya.

After those sixteen hours of hard work, many sandwiches and a lot of not-so-subtle staring on Dazai's part, they had been able to release Eivind. 'We'll do it tomorrow' Chuuya had explained as he'd flopped onto the bed, ready to sleep for the night 'It's too dark, now. The spell will work best in the day.'

'Tomorrow, then.' Dazai had agreed in a sleepy murmur. Chuuya had smiled in that stupidly soft way he did sometimes, running soft fingertips over Dazai's cheek. They'd shared a few gentle kisses, turned out the lights and went to sleep - Chuuya first. Dazai later, after he'd had ample time to just stare at Chuuya's face, taking in all the little details. His gentle breaths, the way a loose curl of hair had fallen over his eyes. If Chuuya was awake he would have brushed the hair away in annoyance. But he was sleeping, so Dazai reached over and brushed it away for him, tucking the strands safely behind Chuuya's ear.

* * *

"Okay, that should do it. You're up, Chuuya."

Yosano had tethered Eivind's soul to a rock - apparently the particular rock had special properties, but Dazai couldn't tell. He thought it looked like just a regular rock, perhaps a little more round than most, but not at all remarkable. Chuuya picked the rock up, cradling it carefully in his palms as though it were a delicate thing that could break in an instant. He started to chant then, and as he did Yosano sidled over to Dazai, explaining the proceedings to him in a soft tone.

"The Sprite is too weak to hold a physical form in the material world. The rock will become his 'body', and his soul will be free to move on the winds as a Sprite like him should. He can go home - the Elder Sprites might be able to give him a body again. Who knows."

Dazai felt it when Eivind left him. It felt similar to having blood drawn, if the blood was being pulled out of every pore all at once. He stumbled but didn't fall, and Yosano placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and then not even ten seconds later Eivind had been gone.

There was a tinge of emptiness inside him, a gap left in a space he'd never known needed to be filled in the first place, but now it was empty he could feel the loss of it. He guessed that the magic Energy inside of him would grow soon enough, filling up that space again with his own energy, but for now the emptiness was a reminder. A reminder of what Mori truly was. Dazai had always known the man was rotten, but this was a corruption that went far beyond the realms of human sin.

Chuuya cast the stone out into the woods, throwing it impossibly far. Dazai didn't know where the rock would land, knew that it probably didn't matter. What mattered was that Eivind was free. Free from Dazai, free from Mori.

Dazai hoped that he could be free from Mori too, one day. Today wasn't that day, though. Tomorrow wouldn't be, either.

* * *

"Hey Dazai."

Dazai had looked up from his book as he'd heard Yosano's footsteps approaching the door, and he nodded in response to her greeting, offering a well prepared smile. He'd known it was Yosano approaching because Chuuya just teleported into rooms without any warning. It had almost been a surprise, to hear footsteps other than his own.

"Hi. I thought you'd already left."

"Decided to come say bye to the precious little human first. Oh come on, don't look at me like that. You're so young, I'm almost jealous!"

Dazai placed the book he'd been reading down beside him, offering Yosano a cheeky smirk. "Don't be. You're pretty enough, for a grandma."

Yosano scoffed and rolled her eyes, clearly not offended. Dazai realised suddenly that Yosano reminded him of Horitsu, of the playful banter they'd shared on missions - the only measure of affection really allowed in the Mafia. Dazai had learnt after Odasaku that Mori would make sure he never had anyone to call 'friend'. Dazai.. Dazai hadn't been sure a friend was something he could ever want again, not after Oda.

Chuuya hadn't given him a choice in the matter. Yosano had managed it too, somehow. They'd both wormed their way into his heart in ways that had managed to avoid all the carefully crafted boundaries he'd built up around himself.

The Enchantress walked across the room until she was standing squarely in front of Dazai, hands firm on her hips in a display of mock irritation. Playful. Fun. "So. Ignoring how rude you are, Chuuya asked me about a long term memory suppression charm. He didn't say what for, but you were raised by everyone's favourite bastard so I'm assuming it's something to do with him?"

Dazai winced at the question, shrugged in response. He had gotten to know Yosano over the last two days, had realised that he quite liked her, but he found that no matter how much she prodded he was completely unable to speak of Mori, of what.. Of what Mori had done.

He couldn't speak of those things to anyone but Chuuya. Chuuya, who had seen the depths of him, had seen how damaged Dazai truly was. Who had seen all the corruption and destruction and hurt, and who had loved him anyway. Chuuya had already seen it all, so adding more muk to the pile wouldn't make a difference. Yosano, though.. He found himself childishly worrying that her opinion of him would change if he talked about it, talked about Mori.

'She already knows' his mind insisted, and Dazai knew that it was probably true. He was being ridiculous. He knew he could force himself to talk about it if he really needed to but he found he didn't want to do that, either.

Apparently Yosano didn't need him to share, and that was a relief. She smiled down at him, a tight, pained thing. "Yeah, that fucker hurts everyone he touches." She didn't elaborate. Wouldn't, judging from the tone of her voice. "Well, if you want it I'll make you the charm. Stop by my place in a couple of days, Chuuya can bring you. I can make the charm, attune it to you, and Chuuya can link it to the memories. Sound good?"

Dazai nodded. He forced himself to meet Yosano's eyes, smile. She was doing him a favour - the least he could do was be was polite in return "That'd be nice… thank you" It was getting hard these days, to fake the smiles. Dazai didn't know why and he wasn't sure he could handle thinking about it. His world was already falling apart and changing shape before his very eyes - there was no room left anymore to analyse his emotional responses to everyday scenarios.

That and.. He found he didn't actually want to. He wanted to take a break from constant self assessment, just for a little bit.

"Thank you, Yosano."

The words of thanks were firmer this time, more certain. Dazai didn't get a response. Yosano had already turned and left, probably to get Chuuya to teleport her home. Or more realistically, she probably had some way of returning home by herself and just wanted to say goodbye to Chuuya first.

Dazai still wasn't certain about the depth of Chuuya and Yosano's relationship. Watching them, it looked like the kind of familiarity that felt as though it had surpassed a lifetime - maybe it had. Chuuya was centuries old, Yosano too. That was a long time for anyone to keep a relationship for, at least Dazai assumed it must be. He wasn't sure. He didn't spend anymore time trying to figure it out, either - instead he turned back to his book.

"Daaaazai~"

Dazai still usually jumped in surprise when Chuuya teleported into the room, but the little flinches weren't nearly as violent as they'd been in the first few weeks he'd spent with Chuuya. Dazai placed his book down again, resigning himself to the fact that he likely wouldn't be finishing it today.

"Hey. Has Yosano gone?"

Chuuya nodded with a tired sounding 'mm' of confirmation as he collapsed into the beanbag, eyes closing. He seemed exhausted - Dazai supposed that wasn't surprising. Chuuya hadn't slept in the last forty eight hours at the very least. At the twenty hour mark Dazai had voiced his concerns and Chuuya had been quick to reassure him, insisting that his body could handle it as long as he ate properly to keep his energy levels consistent.

It had seemed true, as well. Chuuya had seemed so giddily enthusiastic and intensely focused while working to extract Eivind from Dazai's body. Dazai remembered that months ago, Chuuya had said his Energy couldn't work in collaborative spells, due to Arahabaki's violent nature. It had likely been a treat for him to get to work with another Mage. But now the signs of Chuuya's exhaustion were becoming clear, in the droop of his shoulders and his tired eyes. His usual vibrant grins were gone, replaced with soft, tired smiles.

Dazai stood, walking over to the beanbag and flopping down on top of Chuuya. He received a grunt of response and Chuuya opened his eyes to look up at him, not looking angry, just confused. Questioning and tired.

"Come on." Dazai offered a smile, the stretch of his lips feeling less awkward on his face when he received Chuuya's smile in return. He loved when Chuuya flashed those broad grins that seemed to paint his soul across his face. They reminded Dazai of the hottest of summer days, when once or twice a year he'd climb to the highest building he could safely climb, and then higher. He'd lay there on a rooftop in the sun, dare to take his bandages off because he knew that no one else played with death so freely as to follow him.

Chuuya's grins reminded him of those days, of the almost blistering heat that sometimes felt as though it was burning away his very sins. Equally, Dazai treasured the smaller smiles, the soft little curve of Chuuya's lips that said a hundred things all too complicated for words. Those smiles were a different kind of feeling entirely - softer, kinder, like a gentle bath of warmth just before the sun set for the night.

"It's time for bed, Chuuya." Dazai stared down at the man he loved so much, more than he'd ever thought it was possible to love someone. The intensity of it scared him, sometimes - he wasn't used to such strong feelings. They were nice though, in their own way. Like a bleach scouring his soul of grime and mould, leaving it a little cleaner every day.

As the world folded in on itself Dazai only smiled, and within the blink of an eye they were in Chu- in their bedroom, on the bed. Dazai rolled off from on top of Chuuya, settling into the soft coolness of sheets beside him. He reached out his fingers, finding Chuuya's hand and taking in his own, listening to the soft snores from the man beside him.

"I love you." his lips barely moved with the quiet murmur. The words weren't for Chuuya, not really - Chuuya was already asleep. They were words whispered soft and sweet, a quiet confession to himself, to the world.

Mori had often told him that he would never have anything like this - that it was impossible, that people like them should give up on love. If someone with a soul so vile dared to love, then the world would take that love away. It was only just. Dazai had thought that he had learnt his lesson, with Oda.

Now.. If the world tried to take his love away, then Dazai would fight it. He didn't have the impossible powers that Chuuya did, but he would tear the world apart if it meant he could keep Chuuya close like this. It was selfish - incredibly selfish, Dazai knew that. But it was a certainty, knowledge that had rooted itself in his heart when Dazai wasn't looking, and now he could do little more than to bend to it's will.

Dazai smiled to himself, a private crooked little thing. Then he closed his eyes and started down the path to sleep - it didn't take him long. When Dazai dreamed he dreamed of sunlight, of soft orange hair and impossibly bright smiles.

* * *

"I've never worn a ring. I don't need a ring. I- Chuuya no don't look over there I am absolutely not getting earrings. Stooop."

Chuuya turned back to face Dazai, a slight pout on his face. Clearly he'd been hopeful about the idea of earrings. "They'd suit you! Come on, I have my ears pierced, it's no big deal. Promise."

Dazai shook his head firmly "Absolutely not. Come on Chuuya, does the charm really have to be applied to jewelry? I get that you prefer to look like a particularly bedazzled peacock, but I've never worn a ring in my life!"

Chuuya just rolled his eyes, grabbing Dazai's hand and leading him towards the food court. "Okay, okay. We'll grab some lunch and go to the market, pick up some fish. I'll cook you crab and then we can brainstorm some ideas that you actually like for this shitty memory altering charm. Sound good?"

A suspicious stare met Chuuya's words, although Dazai was not resisting being dragged towards the food court. He was hungry and Queen's Square Mall had just got a pop up burger stand he absolutely wanted to try, food poisoning be damned. "Are you trying to ply me with crab, Chuuya? That's not very fair."

"Of course I'm trying to ply you with crab. I do wish I could ply you with hugs though, it'd be a lot cheaper."

Dazai couldn't help but laugh at that one, shooting Chuuya a mischievous smile as they approached the burger cart. "How about you ply me with crab and cuddles? That'd be super effective."

The unexplainably soft look Chuuya got on his face then made Dazai's heart do little flips inside his chest.

* * *

"Mmf."

It was not a dignified noise. Dazai didn't care, stretching out across the floor with his head settled in Chuuya's lap. They were both comfortably arranged on a pile of blankets and had so far watched two films - an incredibly cheesy romantic comedy and a generic action movie, that had been so melodramatic that Dazai had found himself snickering at every 'serious' moment.

Ironically, it had been about the Mafia. The film's writers and directors had clearly never experienced even a hint of a true Mafia, but that was probably good for them. Good for Dazai, too, as he got to laugh at how completely unrealistic the film was.

The credits were rolling. Dazai hummed sleepily to the pretty piano tune playing as names rolled across the TV screen - the film's score had been it's one redeeming quality. He yawned, wide and content, shifted his head in Chuuya's lap and let his eyes slide shut. This was nice.

A soft hum from above him, followed by a hand on his forehead. It was pleasantly cool. "You've caught the sun on your face. Neck, too." Dazai didn't say anything to that, only shrugged, and a moment later soft lips pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Dazai wrinkled his nose as Chuuya's long hair tickled at it, opening his eyes. Chuuya's hair was like a cascade of orange falling around them in a curtain, blocking out the world. He smiled and Chuuya smiled back, before looking over at the notepad and pencil that had been discarded hours ago in favour of terrible films.

"We were meant to brainstorm.. Ah, whatever. Let's just do it tomorrow, yeah?"

A nod from Dazai and then he yawned again, blinking up at Chuuya sleepily. He got tired more easily now that he'd started to sleep in a semi-regular pattern. He hadn't meant to, Chuuya just.. Hadn't given him much of a choice. How was he supposed to stay awake, lying next to someone so warm every night?

"Do you think it's alright that I get tired all the time?" He voiced the thought in a quiet murmur and Chuuya shook his head, running gentle hands through Dazai's hair.

"You don't get tired all the time, its two in the morning. That's sleepy time for most people."

"Sleepy time for us?" Dazai questioned. His eyelids felt heavy and Chuuya was so warm. Chuuya nodded and shifted, lying down next to Dazai and slinging a comfortable arm over his chest, somehow protective and possessive all at once.

"Yeah, sleepy time for us. Night, Dazai."

"G'night."

This wasn't the bed, but the mound of blankets they had created would be a more than adequate substitute. Dazai closed his eyes, leaning forward so that his forehead touched Chuuya's, revelling in the closeness of it as he started to fall asleep.

* * *

Chuuya woke first, because Dazai was fidgeting in his sleep. He yawned, blinking sleepily and wrapping a lazy arm round Dazai, rubbing at his back in an attempt to soothe him. It didn't work - Dazai let out the softest of whines and kicked Chuuya in the shin, his brows furrowed and face pinched.

Chuuya sighed, not wanting to wake him but not liking to see him suffer, even if this was just a bad dream. He kept rubbing gentle circles into Dazai's back, through the soft grey sweater Dazai had fallen asleep in. He remembered that when Dazai had first come here, all he'd worn was dress shirts and soft sweaters. The first day Dazai had wandered into the kitchen wearing a loose t-shirt and jeans Chuuya had had to remind himself how to breathe properly.

The room was gently lit, a soft artificial glow surrounding them. The house lit itself through magical means, often mimicking the levels of light on the surface. Kouyou knew to keep the light dim when Chuuya was asleep, though - unless she was mad at him for something.

Chuuya smiled then, but it was a sad smile. Kouyou…

He gasped as Dazai grabbed his arm, nails digging sharp crescents into his skin. His eyes flew to Dazai's face but his love was still asleep. Chuuya stroked his sun reddened cheeks with the tip of a finger; Dazai really had caught the sun yesterday. Maybe that was the cause of these bad dreams.

Chuuya forgot sometimes, that Dazai was only young. He didn't have the kinds of charms that all Mages built up over centuries. One of the many feathers braided into Chuuya's hair prevented sunburn, a small bright red one by his left ear. He'd found out after a particularly long trip to Australia that sunburn was painful and not in the least flattering, and so had made a charm to combat it.

Two small yells punctuated the air - Dazai's as he woke up with a start, shooting up into sitting, and Chuuya as hands grabbed sudden fists in his shirt. Chuuya looked up at Dazai, at the wild panicked eyes that stared back at him. Dazai was breathing fast, trying to speak through desperate gasps. Chuuya moved quickly, cupping his face and drawing him close, offering a smile of comfort.

"Come on now, breathe for me. You can't talk until you breathe, Dazai." It was working. Dazai's breathing was becoming more regulated as he took steadier breaths, no longer trying to force out words without the air to fuel them. "Slowly, slowly. There we go. It was just a dream, love. Just a dream."

Dazai shook his head frantically, words leaving him in a wet gasp "Mori's coming." Dazai gripped tighter at Chuuya's shirt, leaning over Chuuya and pushing him down in an attempt to make him listen "He's here, he's here, he was in my head, he's here-"

Dazai broke off on a sob. Chuuya had no idea what to say so he went to hug Dazai, only to be pushed away with a snarl. "This isn't the time for hugs!" Dazai sounded angry, the ferociousness underlaid by tones of panic "He's here Chuuya, you have to do something!"

"Dazai." Chuuya tried to keep his voice as level as possible "The number of wards around my house is.. Immeasurable. Unbreakable. He wasn't in your head love, you just had a nightmare, you just-"

"It was him!" Dazai insisted once again, voice a horrible mix of fear and frustration "It felt real, Chuuya! You're great at magic, sure, but you said yourself that he's planning something. What if he found a way to get around the wards, huh? And you're just sitting here!"

Chuuya frowned. "My wards are in tact, Dazai. I can feel every one of them. When Mori comes for us it won't be a direct assault, he knows he'll lose."

"You're so full of yourself." Dazai hissed the words and Chuuya was taken aback by the suddenness of the accusation. This wasn't Dazais' usual teasing, not at all. "What if he's better than you? You're not the only Mage on the Earth, Chuuya! He got Eivind, what's to stop him - anyone else - from absorbing a God too, huh? You wouldn't even know, you barely go outside!"

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at that, eyebrows pinching in frustration. He drew back and crossed his arms - he understood that Dazai had had a nightmare, a likely horrible nightmare about the man who'd raped and tortured him, killed his Mother. Chuuya was expecting the panic, the tears, but he hadn't expected the angry words, the meanness. "Dazai. You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous?" Dazai sounded more than a little affronted, words accompanied by violent gesturing. Did Dazai even realise he was doing that? Chuuya didn't know. "We could die at any moment, but we're wasting our time watching shitty movies and eating and getting nowhere. You should be researching, I should be trying to kill him and instead we're, what? Cuddling?"

Chuuya realised suddenly what this was about, but it didn't make the words sting any less. He stood, staring down at Dazai. "I love you." Dazai seemed to freeze at the words, wide eyes locked onto Chuuya's face. "You're having a meltdown because you don't know how to live a normal life, because Mori didn't let you know. We are both exhausted, we both need a proper break, but frankly last night was the last bit of down time we'll have until all of this is over. We both know it."

Dazai seemed locked in place, as though he hadn't expected Chuuya to actually respond. Chuuya sighed, running a hand over his face, trying to force his thoughts into nice rational little lines. Everything had been going so nicely, but Chuuya had known there would be a breaking point eventually. Nobody could slip from Mafia work to a domestic life quite as easily as Dazai had appeared to, and Chuuya now suspected that Dazai had actually passed his breaking point some time ago.

"I love you." he said the words again, and Dazai's eyes started to fill with tears even as his face twisted in anger, hands clenched to fists on his knees. Chuuya felt his heart ache, but he knew he needed to step away from this situation or it'd only escalate. Dazai needed space, whether or not he knew it himself. "I have done a great deal for you, as you have done for me. You are being petty because you're stressed and scared and don't know how to admit that to yourself. I understand, but I'm not going to let you talk to me like this Osamu. Find me when your head clears."

He teleported away without giving Dazai a chance to respond, to sling more angry words at him. Chuuya sighed within the space of his own bedroom, staring at his desk, the stacks of papers and notebooks that awaited him there. He'd need to start working again, figure out what Mori could be planning. It was exhausting, an impossible task that he had no choice but to undertake. Anything, anything that gave him and Dazai a greater chance of surviving this mess.

"Don't let Dazai in here for a few hours. He'll realise he fucked up, get sad and come to apologise. But.. he needs space. I need space. So.. a few hours, please."

A prickle of energy signalled his house's acknowledgment and Chuuya sighed again, seating himself at the desk. He'd managed to brush off the effects of Dazai's anger, knowing it was wrongly directed at him - the words still stung though, settling in his chest like a sickly weight. But Dazai had said he needed to get back to researching, and Chuuya silently agreed with that.

He frowned to himself as he recalled Dazai's other words; 'I should be trying to kill him'. Of course. Chuuya smiled bitterly, glancing up to the ceiling. The energy of his house surrounded him but for some reason he always visualised it being concentrated in the ceilings, like some kind of omniscient, omnipotent and questionably benevolent overlord. How ridiculous.

"Don't let Dazai leave either. He'll do something dumb." Another prickle of agreement from his house and Chuuya opened the first notebook of many, eyes pouring over patterns and ruins that he could read like a second language now. He would work for a few hours, try not to think about Dazai, alone and secretly terrified for both of their lives.

"I love you, Osamu." The words were whispered to the air. There was no response, no one to hear them, but somehow the quiet declaration made Chuuya feel a little stronger. He bit at his lip, staring down at paper marred by lines and lines and lines of pen.

Chuuya stared at the piles of paper and notebooks that amounted to nothing and frowned, eyebrows creasing together in thought. Maybe Dazai was right, after all. He'd wasted enough time doing not much and giving Mori all the time in the world to sit around and plan, to carefully prepare to finally make his move.

Perhaps.. Perhaps it was time for a more direct approach.

* * *

YEET

S O my big plan was to edit all the earlier chapters and then start posting new chapters, but nah. I thought the editing process would take a couple weeks at most (it usually does) but it's been well over two months and I didn't even finish editing chapter one. Ah, the joys of college!

I will officially finish this fic before going back to edit. That process involves fixing sentence structure and grammar and generally improving the writing quality. It will likely also include fixing continuity errors and some very minor changes to plot points if anything's gotten too confusing/messy, but that can only happen once I finish the whole story. Basically I worried the plot was getting too bloated, but then I remembered this is a fanfiction so I can insert as many fluffy scenes as I want and no one will complain. I love the internet.

We're actually entering the 'third arc' of the story, aka the big one where we deal with actual main plot points. I'd say we're ⅗ of the way through the whole fic. Maybe a little further. (I say that now, but I add way more scenes as I go than there are in my official plot draft, so we'll just have to wait and see what happens.)

It's great to be back, guys ! If you enjoyed this chapter please drop a comment because I love to know who's around and reading (: especially now we're no longer in the peak of the BSD fandom seeing as S3 is over.

Also apparently this fic is being translated to Persian and I have Iranian readers so,, سلام ! همه شما را دوست دارم

hi guys ! Love you all 3


	15. 15: For Just a Second

15: For Just a Second

* * *

"Chuuya…" The whisper of his name was so soft that Chuuya would have missed it if he hadn't been tracking Dazai's journey through the house, ever shifting corridors and hallways leading him to the kitchen. Chuuya turned, sandwich in hand, staring at Dazai who stood in the kitchen doorway. Dazai was tall and Chuuya's doorways were low - if Dazai were to jump, he'd probably hit his head on the frame.

Chuuya wasn't sure he'd ever seen Dazai look quite so sheepish before. He wouldn't even meet his eyes, staring off at a point beside Chuuya's hip instead. "Dazai." He kept his voice gentle, smiled even as Dazai didn't look at him. "I'm not angry with you. I promise."

Brown eyes met his own for just a second before Dazai looked away again, shrugging, nervous hands picking at the sleeve of his sweater. "You should be mad though, I was really mean to you. You're doing so much already, I was just… I had a bad dream. About Mori. I was… scared. I was scared."

Chuuya felt himself soften at that, tension falling from his shoulders as he placed his sandwich down on the counter, walking towards Dazai instead. Didn't touch him just yet, but he already felt better for the proximity. "It's been two days. I wasn't mad at you then, I'm not mad at you now. Of course you're scared. You're scared and nobody taught you how to deal with it, it makes sense that you lashed out."

Dazai sighed, a noise of frustration, eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. He'd looked up to watch Chuuya's approach, and Chuuya could see the frustration simmering in his eyes. Dazai was angry at himself. "I just.. wish I was better than that. For you. For me."

Chuuya smiled properly at that, floating just a few feet off the ground so he could press a kiss to Dazai's forehead. "Nobodies perfect, though. Especially not us. It'll take time."

Those words seemed to rile Dazai's fear, his face pulling into a bitter frown. "Time is limited, Chuuya. Mori's going to make a move soon, I can tell."

Chuuya nodded, not one to deny something so obviously true. "Yeah, maybe. We'll be ready when he does. Don't worry about it, pet. We'll be just fine."

Dazai rolled his eyes at the old nickname but he was smiling, so Chuuya's words must have helped to calm his more immediate worries. Dazai stepped forwards and chuuya thought he was about to get a hug, but then Dazai walked right on past him to the kitchen counter. He picked up the sandwich Chuuya had made and taking a bite, chewing for a moment before staring down at the sandwich in clear disgust.

"Ew. What the hell, Chuuya?"

"Stop judging me. Lettuce is great in sandwiches, you just don't have good taste." Chuuya was quick to snatch his sandwich back as Dazai eyed the food waste bin. "Come on, leave my lunch alone. I'll make you something. Without lettuce.. Soup?"

Dazai pulled another face. "Gross. Soup is for old men, like Chuuya." Chuuya rolled his eyes and tried to fight back a smile as Dazai laughed, and just like that it felt like everything was back to normal.

* * *

Dazai hummed to himself as he rummaged through a wardrobe full of coats and jackets, appreciating the smell of good food as it drifted to him through the hallways. Chuuya was preparing dinner - something that was apparently called boeuf à la Bourguignonne. Dazai was pretty sure that last part was a made up word, but Chuuya insisted it was real, just French. Dazai didn't know why it had such a weird name. It _smelt_ good, that was what mattered.

Dazai also wasn't sure how smell travelling worked in this house. He had no idea how his current location related to the location of the kitchen, if at all. He would ask about it but the last time he'd asked Chuuya about the houses structure the answer had been confusing enough to give him a headache. He still very much struggled to wrap his head around magic.

Really though, that made the prospect of learning more about it even more exciting.

Dazai span round as Chuuya appeared in the room, appearance revealed as he was reflected in the mirror Dazai had been facing. He flashed Chuuya his brightest sweetest smile, a top hat he'd found in a closet full of hats sat on his head. Dazai wasn't sure if Chuuya owned it for fancy dress up parties or if it was something he wore entirely seriously, and that made it even better.

Chuuya did not seem pleased to see him, snatching the hat off of Dazai's head and turning to put it back in the closet. "Hey, how did you even get in here?"

Dazai raised an eyebrow at that one. "Is Chuuya going crazy? I _walked_ in. You know, like a normal person."

When Chuuya turned back around he was glaring - not in an angry way, but in the mildly-annoyed-but-not-really way he sometimes did. Apparently Chuuya was quite protective over his room full of wardrobes and closets. "This room should be off limits, even to you - no, _especially_ to you!" Chuuya directed his glare at the wall then and Dazai laughed as he felt the air around them grow prickly, the house's way of arguing back.

He turned back to the wardrobe, sliding a nice looking tan coat off its hanger and holding it up. "Chuuuya ~ this is the nicest piece of clothing you own, why don't you ever wear it?"

Chuuya turned to look at him, and Dazai saw the hesitation that flickered across his face. Chuuya's expression froze, his eyes locked onto the coat. Ah, it must be important, then.

"Ignoring your comment about my _impeccable_ fashion sense," Chuuya seemed to recover quickly enough and Dazai huffed, starting to slide the coat on. It was a surprisingly good fit, albeit a little tight around the arms. "That coat was a gift from my elder sister. For my birthday, two days before she was murdered."

Dazai paused at that, staring down at the coat. It was half way over his shoulders. "Oh.. I'm sorry." It was a lame apology, but Dazai wasn't sure what else to say. Chuuya just shrugged, walking over and pulling the coat the rest of the way onto Dazai. Hands landed on his shoulders, turning him to face the mirror. It really was a nice coat.

"No need to be. She's at peace in the Summerlands now. She was killed in 1692, you know that time best as the Dark Ages. Mages of all kind were persecuted back then. A mob killed her. She could have fought them off easily, but she engineered her death so it'd ensure the protection of a whole city of trainee Mages. The City of the Mother was destroyed, but the students all escaped. Except her. She died a noble death. I'm proud of her."

"What was her name?" Dazai's voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Chuuya was speaking so reverently of his sister, and it was clear he treasured the memories of her. Dazai had never before wondered what it would be like to have siblings, but he wondered now.

"Her name was Kouyou." Chuuya's voice was equally soft as he adjusted the collar of the coat. Dazai felt it sit heavily on his shoulders, weighed down by everything it must mean to Chuuya. When he turned his head to meet Chuuya's eyes Chuuya was staring at the coat nostalgically. Dazai imagined it had been years and years since Chuuya had gotten it out - maybe even centuries.

"You can keep it."

"What? Really?" Dazai wasn't sure. The coat was obviously precious to Chuuya, Dazai didn't want to tarnish it.

"Yeah. It suits you. A good replacement for your Mafia coat, huh? Besides, tan isn't really my colour."

"Chuuya doesn't _have_ a colour." Dazai lied, turning back to the mirror to take another look at the coat. It did seem to suit him, but it was such a nice coat that he was pretty sure it'd look good on most people. Mm, maybe not Mori. Hirotsu could definitely rock it, but he already had a fancy black coat of his own. Oh, it'd definitely have suited Oda.

Dazai was hit by a sudden idea, eyes widening in his excitement as he turned to face Chuuya. "Chuuya! The coat could be my charm item!"

Chuuya whacked him upside the head at that, a playful little smack that had Dazai laughing. "No, idiot. The charm item needs to be something you'll never take off. I'm not letting you _sleep_ in a coat."

Dazai sighed dramatically, spinning a slow circle, eyes scanning the contents of what could only be described as Chuuya's fashion room. Except half the clothes were several centuries outdated, and there were far too many cloaks. "But Chuuuya, there's nothing I - oh."

Chuuya followed his gaze, rolling his eyes as he saw what Dazai was looking at. "Really? A choker?"

"That is absolutely not a choker. Chuuya that is a _collar_, and if you think otherwise you are lying to yourself. It has a _buckle_."

Chuuya sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, and Dazai could tell by his expression that Chuuya knew this was a fight he couldn't win. "Fine, whatever. You want one? You're sure?"

He wasn't sure at all, but Dazai was starting to think he'd never find the 'right' charm item. He'd never liked accessories. "It's fitting, I _am_ your pet aren't I? Besides, I'm sure your stupid little gremlin of a Deity will be pleased that I want to wear a collar. Forever. Because of you."

As expected Arahabaki's pleased rumble of a growl filled the room and Chuuya glared. Chuuya had never detailed Arahabaki's thought process to him, but Dazai had figured it out anyway. "Okay, I'll let you have a _choker_ on one condition."

"Mm?"

"After dinner we're going out and buying a new one. No more stealing my fucking clothes."

Ah. So Chuuya _had_ noticed the missing shirts, then. Oh well.

* * *

In the end they bought a ring. A simple little gold band that sat snugly on Dazai's fourth finger. Chuuya didn't say anything about the implications - Dazai didn't either. Neither of them had to. They both had stupid smiles on both their faces all the way home and long into the night.

* * *

Every so often Dazai would glance down at the ring on his finger, and Chuuya would spot the motion out the corner of his eye. Every time Dazai did it, it made Chuuya's heart swell and fizzle with an unnameable emotion. Chuuya couldn't seem to wipe away the stupid goofy smile that was stuck on his face and Dazai would laugh at him, call him ridiculous, but wouldn't move from where he was snuggled against Chuuya's side.

Their competition to find the worst movie continued, a couple of hours of respite after a long day of work. Tonight's film was a trashy horror about teens dying in a variety of gruesome ways. Chuuya wasn't sure what exactly was killing them - he was pretty sure the film had explained it, but he'd been too distracted by Dazai's stupidly pretty face.

"Chuuuya, aren't these the kinds of boring movies you're supposed to have sex to?" Chuuya was surprised at the suddenness of those words, and a few moments of fumbling later Dazai had clambered his way into Chuuya's lap, staring down at him. Chuuya stared right back, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as Dazai kept talking. "Seriously, you're not even paying attention. We might as well do something more interesting."

"Yeah?" Chuuya settled his hands on Dazai's hips, rubbing soft circles there, imagining he was feeling skin and not denim. Chuuya smiled up at Dazai, teasing "Maybe I don't want to. I want to see how, ah, Courtney dies."

"Her name isn't Courtney, Chuuya." Chuuya couldn't help but chuckle at the look on Dazai's face, as if he was actually offended Chuuya hadn't been paying attention. "Courtney's already dead. Daphne is - oh, there she goes."

Chuuya heard wailing from the direction of the television but didn't bother to check what gruesome fate not-Courtney was meeting, his eyes focused instead on Dazai's face. Somehow soft yet angular, cheekbones framed by an adorable mess of hair, skin pale. Dazai's eyes were twinkling in the firelight, a soft flush colouring his cheeks. He looked so much more _alive_ than when he had first tried to kill Chuuya, and Chuuya still marvelled at the change.

"You're beautiful, did you know?" Chuuya reached up, thumb brushing across Dazai's cheek as it heated with a blush, the skin reddening prettily beneath his touch. It was a subtle enough tint that he might have missed it months ago, but Chuuya knew to look for those little hints of colour, now.

"Chuuya." Dazai's voice was just close enough to a whine that it had Chuuya's blood rushing south, and it didn't help when Dazai shifted on his lap, thighs each side of Chuuya's legs. Dazai's meaning was clear, and not feeling at all inclined protest Chuuya tightened his hold on Dazai's hip while his other hand slid round to his back, pulling Dazai forwards until their lips met.

It only took a minute of passionate, wet kissing until Dazai's hips twitched forwards, the motion so small Chuuya questioned whether it was voluntarily. He smiled, pulling back to look at Dazai, eyes drawn to his lips. Swollen and red, covered in a wet, glossy sheen.

Chuuya leant forwards again, one hand reaching up to rest against Dazai's neck. He felt the firmness of Dazai's hands against his chest, layers of clothing still separating them.

"The things I could do to you.." The words were a whisper against wet lips and he felt Dazai shiver against him, pressing their lips together again. Arahabaki's growl of approval was a low rumble inside him, the beast stirring feelings of primal possessiveness that Chuuya had kept carefully below the surface until now. He couldn't suppress them now - with Dazai on top of him like this Chuuya couldn't tell where Arahabaki ended and he begun. Did it really matter? Dazai looked divine and Chuuya wanted nothing more than to take him apart. Chuuya reached a hand between them to rest over Dazai's crotch, squeezing, a smirk painting his face as he felt Dazai's dick twitch against him in response.

"You like that." It was a statement not a question but Dazai nodded anyway, his gaze every bit as hungry as Chuuya's. They hadn't done anything sexual since the first time - one of them was always busy or exhausted. But Chuuya was suddenly very aware of everything he could do to Dazai, everything they could do _together_, and the possibility of it all was almost overwhelming. He'd lived a long time and he'd learnt a _lot_ about sex, more than many human 'experts' ever could.

"_Chuuya_." Dazai's voice was practically a gasp from above him and Chuuya's gaze snapped up to Dazai's eyes. The need - no, _desperation_ he saw there dragged him back to the moment and Chuuya smiled, reaching up to run a hand through Dazai's hair, pulling him close so their foreheads bumped against each other.

"Patience, love." Chuuya had never been a very patient child. As the decades had passed he'd learnt that some things were worth waiting for after all. "We have time, all the time we could ever want. There's no need to rush."

The words held a promise - a promise that they would survive this, that Mori wouldn't cut their lives short. Dazai's breaths were deep and shuddering against him but he nodded anyway, eyes meeting Chuuya's. "I know. I know we do."

That was a lie. Dazai didn't know, Chuuya didn't know. There was no way to know for sure. Chuuya supposed it probably affected Dazai more - he was used to a fragile body, the concept of mortality. Death wasn't something Chuuya hadn't had to truly fear in a long time.

He feared it now. Especially when Dazai was so close like this, reminding him of everything he had to lose.

"Kiss me." Dazais voice was shaking and Chuuya obliged the command without question, cupping soft cheeks in his hands and bringing their lips together. Dazai kissed with the desperation of a dying man and it made Chuuya's heart ache. His own lips moved soft and slow in contrast, dragging the kiss out until Dazai was panting against him, hands clawing fists in Chuuya's sweater.

"Chuuya - _Chuuya_ -" Dazai's hips were grinding down against Chuuya's thigh now in halting yet frantic little movements and Chuuya had to sigh at how _good_ it felt. He slipped a hand under Dazai's shirt, resting it at his waist, fingers trailing absently over scars. He heard Dazai's breath hitch at the action but didn't move his hand away.

"We're taking it slow today." Dazai whined his disappointment at Chuuya's decision, hips pressing down in what was a very purposeful protest. Chuuya rolled his eyes. In one fluid movement he teleported them both to the bedroom to a spot just a few feet above the bed, twisting his body as they fell so that he landed on top, pinning Dazai carefully to the mattress. Dazai stared up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen, mouth slack at the surprise of their sudden move.

"Did you know I have an entire room in this house dedicated entirely to toys and kit just for sex?" Chuuya kept his tone conversational but he saw the look on Dazai's face, felt the way his breath stuttered for a moment. "I've never actually _used_ any of mine, but I know how. I've practised."

"Could you practise on me?" Dazai's voice was so breathless that Chuuya almost laughed, leaning down so their noses were touching, feeling little puffs of air against his face as Dazai breathed. Chuuya had picked up many hobbies in his years. For several decades sex had played a large role in his life, until he'd gotten bored of nameless fucks with no emotion, no bond. He'd considered starting a long term relationship, but he'd never found someone worth considering for the role.

Dazai was worth considering. Dazai hadn't even given him the chance _to_ consider, steamrolling into his life as he had.

Chuuya tangled their fingers together as he held Dazai's hands either side of his head, pressing them down into the mattress below. He was sat on Dazai's waist. He had to lean forwards a bit to bring their eyes level, but the position left Dazai with no leverage at all.

"Dazai, you're not _practise_, you're the main event. So. Today we're taking things slow, and one day when we're ready I _will_ show you that room. Sound fair?"

"That's not fair at _all_." Chuuya just smiled knowingly. As he'd spoken the words he'd been sure Dazai would be all whines and protests, but he knew this was right. There was no need to rush things, not with Dazai, because Dazai wasn't going to disappear like the one night stands always did. If he was going to leave, he would have left by now. The knowledge was elating. Chuuya weighed himself down with a little extra gravity as Dazai bucked against him, a groan bubbling in his throat. The friction was _wonderful_.

Chuuya stared down at Dazai, wondering what to do with him now he had him, still and constrained - well, as still as Dazai would ever be. Sometimes Dazai was placid, almost lifelessly calm. Then other times like this he was a turbulent force of chaotic energy and inherent curiosity, tearing through the world with no regard for consequences. Chuuya flashed a wicked smile, saw the apprehension on Dazai's face "I could pin you to this bed just using gravity, you know? You wouldn't be able to lift a finger unless I let you."

It was a test, of sorts. Chuuya watched Dazai's face carefully, wanting to gauge his reaction. Given Dazai's past fits of claustrophobia Chuuya wasn't too sure if Dazai would react positively to that particular suggestion, how he really felt about being pinned down like this. Much to Chuuya's delight he felt Dazai's growing erection jump in response, hips rolling up against his own once again. "Chuuya. Stop teasing. You're so mean." Dazai's voice was steady, but coloured by hints of desperation. Chuuya smiled.

"I could just keep you like this." Chuuya's voice was growing less conversational as his arousal grew, shifting closer to something darker, promising. "Let you rut against me until you cum. I wouldn't even have to do anything, would I?"

"Chuuya. _Fuck me_." Dazai's whine was answer enough and Chuuya decided to finally take pity on him, offering him a soft smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. He let go of Dazai's hands and slowly pulled back, letting Dazai sit up.

"Soon. Promise. Say, do you want to fuck me? Have you considered that?"

It was just an absent suggestion but Dazai stilled, eyes a little wide as their gazes met. "Would you let me?"

Chuuya raised an eyebrow before shaking his head, taking one of Dazai's hands in his own again, curling their fingers together. He liked the feeling, the warmth of Dazai's hand in his own, the tangible connection tying them together. "Of course, dumbass. Why? Do you want to?"

Chuuya watched, enthralled as Dazai wet his lips and stared off at the wall, colour heating his cheeks. Dazai was embarrassed. It was precious to watch.

"I, ah.. Not that I wouldn't, but I think Chuuya's better. And you've kind of.. got the right…. vibes."

Chuuya couldn't hold back his laughter at that, a snicker breaking the air between them. Dazai glared at him, snatching his hand away, and Chuuya could only smile an apology. "Sorry, sorry, but the right _vibes_? Seriously, Dazai? What does that even _mean_? Are you saying I'm very clearly a top and my dominance is so obvious it shouldn't be questioned? Is that it?"

Dazai was glaring tenfold, now. "You have a lot of confidence for someone so short, Chuuya. It's just because you're _old_. You radiate the wisdom and experience of an _old person_. That's it."

"Sure, sure." Dazai was trying to play it off with insults, but Chuuya was _definitely_ taking his previous words as a compliment. A reluctantly given, embarrassed admission that Chuuya was the one in control here.

Well. He certainly wasn't going to argue with that.

"I suppose if you want me to fuck you I better make sure I do a good job then, mm?" Chuuya pulled Dazai into a hug and Dazai sighed but followed, allowing Chuuya to lead him to lie down on the mattress.

Chuuya took a moment to stare at Dazai's pretty face. Dazai didn't seem to know what to do, hands hovering awkwardly in the air between them. Chuuya smiled and took one of Dazai's hands in his own, squeezed, gazing into eyes the colour of warm chocolate. "Hey, Dazai.. Can I touch your hair?"

Dazai's blush at that was bright, instantaneous and creeping all the way round to the back of his neck. "Wha.. Y-Yeah, of course." The confusion on his face was imminent but it seemed he was too surprised to bother with a snappy remark, only staring at Chuuya as if he'd said something shocking.

A smile was Chuuya's only form of explanation as he threaded his fingers through Dazai's hair, twisting soft curls around a fingertip and rubbing firm circles above the back of Dazai's neck, into his scalp. Dazai sighed and Chuuya watched as his shoulders lost a little tension, Dazai relaxing into the touch, even as hints of confusion remained on his face, in the curve of his eyebrows.

"Mm...May I kiss you?"

Dazai's blush had spread all the way up to his ears now, forehead creasing as if he was trying to solve a particularly hard puzzle. "You.. don't have to ask?" The unspoken question was clear in his voice and Chuuya just nodded, smiling still.

"I know." Chuuya leant forwards, placing a gentle kiss to Dazai's forehead. "I want to, though. It's polite to ask, don't you think?" He didn't give Dazai a chance to respond - instead he kissed him properly, their lips soft against each other. Dazai's hungry urgency from earlier had faded, replaced with something calmer, warm and loving. Chuuya stroked his hand slowly through Dazai's hair as they kissed, his other hand reaching up to cup Dazai's cheek. Dazai was soft and pliant, not resisting the little touches. Chuuya found it a welcome reaction, a sign that Dazai was relaxing, forgetting about Mori.

Chuuya doubted Mori ever asked for Dazai's consent, in this. Or maybe he did, maybe he did and found it all the more fun when he ignored the 'no' and took what he wanted anyway, leaving a wrecked shell of a boy behind.

"I love you." The words pulled Chuuya from his momentary distraction of darker thoughts. Unable to keep a smile from his face Chuuya reached down to tangle Dazai's fingers in his own again, astounded once again at how _much _he could feel. The intensity of love was like nothing else. Chuuya felt the ridge of the ring around Dazai's finger, and for a moment he felt as though his heart might burst.

* * *

Yosano greeted them at the door. She stared at Chuuya for several long moments before her eyes slid over to Dazai, her gaze wholly serious. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked, and Dazai nodded without hesitation, uncaring that Yosano hadn't even greeted them. This was straight to business.

Yosano turned and started walking through her house, and Chuuya gestured to tell Dazai that he should follow. He did, staring around in wonder at the twinkling fairy lights strung across the ceiling, the stacks of books piled precariously, some reaching from the floor right up to the ceiling. Yosano's home was cluttered but it felt like every item had a place, a purpose, was significant enough that it had earned its spot on the floor or shelf or table. Little trinkets lay everywhere - propped up against books, hanging from walls. A few evcen dangled from the ceiling. Dazai could only assume that they were all functional charms of some kind. He wondered if a couple, perhaps, were purely for decoration.

"Memory repressors are a big deal. The Grand Council tried to label them as dark forbidden magic a few decades ago, but enough victims of trauma rely on them that they couldn't get away with it."

Yosano stopped then, Dazai almost walking right into her back. She turned, meeting his eyes, studying his face as though she was reading something there that Dazai couldn't even begin to fathom. "These charms can really fuck someone up, Dazai. We can't talk about it - you can't even know you have memories that are suppressed, or your mind will start breaking down the charm. If the charm breaks or.. or you lose it, or anything, all the memories will come back in a rush. Is that something you think you can handle? Knowing, after not knowing?"

Dazai did pause then, glancing back at Chuuya, who's expression was troubled but otherwise unhelpful. He did offer a supportive smile, though. Dazai took a silent, steadying breath and turned his gaze back to Yosano, nodding. "I.. I can handle it. It won't be pleasant, I know that. I'll probably get curious at one point and take the ring off without realising what I'm doing. That's fine. I just.. really want the nightmares to stop."

A quick, firm nod from Yosano and she turned again, opening what had at first appeared to be a cupboard door, revealing a downwards staircase formed from stone. Dazai didn't question it, following Yosano downwards. He felt a gentle hand on his back and smiled to himself, safe with the knowledge that Chuuya was right behind him.

His breath hitched as he reached the bottom of the stairs and was met with a flat stone table. It was clear to him immediately that he'd have to lie on it and he desperately tried to ignore the memories of Mori, of a scalpel dragging up his side, of being helpless and paralysed as fingers dug themselves underneath his skin. The discomfort must have shown on his face as Yosano was looking at him with something like sympathy in her eyes, her stony expression gentling.

"It'll be quick." She promised, and Dazai nodded stiffly, walking to the edge of the table. He ran a hesitant hand over the surface. The stone was rough, unfinished and crudely cut. This whole room was the same - carved into stone and furnished only by a single oil lamp in the corner.

Sudden hands gripped at his waist and he was being lifted, sat on the edge of the table. He stared down at Chuuya, wanting to tease him about how he'd _definitely_ used magic for that lift - he was too short, otherwise. The words stuck in his throat like a lump, and when he tried to swallow around it he felt like he was choking.

"I'm right here." Chuuya's words were soft and Dazai could only nod, shuffling to lie down on the table. The stone hurt his head. He stared up at the ceiling, dark and completely unlike the bright surgical lightheads Mori used in his personal operating theatre.

"The item?" Hands unmistakably Chuuya's gently slid the ring off his finger, where it had sat since they'd bought it. He probably handed it over to Yosano - Dazai didn't look. He was focusing on breathing.

"A ring? How dull. I expected something flashier from you, Chuuya."

Dazai's lips twitched into a smile as he heard Chuuya's indignant huff from somewhere off to his right. "At least it isn't a collar. He almost convinced me to get him a collar with my initials embroidered on it, from the _pet_ store. The clerk would have been scandalised."

Yosano laughed at that, and suddenly she appeared in Dazai's field of vision, peering down at him. Dazai realised she was floating, a soft purple light glowing all around her. He stared at it in wonder. His best guess was that she was gathering energy around her for the spell. He'd have to ask Chuuya, later.

No. He wouldn't remember any of this, would he? He wouldn't know to ask.

"You don't pay me enough to enchant kinky shit." Her voice was monotone but her focus was on Dazai, expression not exactly a smile, but comforting nonetheless. It was in her eyes, the softness there despite her cool exterior.

"I.. don't pay you at all?"

"Exactly." Yosano drifted back out of sight and a moment later Dazai heard the dull sounds of her shoes touching back down on the ground. He felt a little less anxious, now - Yosano and Chuuya were so close, and both of them had a fondness for him. He could trust them, in this. Trust them to get it right, to let him heal, even if just a little bit.

Dazai let out a sigh then, his shoulders loosening. He was finally going to be free of _those_ nightmares. It was a nice thought, a thought he'd never imagine he'd get to entertain. It had been impossible, before now. Before he'd met Chuuya.

"Go to sleep." The words were sudden, and with them came an exhaustion the likes of which he'd never felt before. It was so intense that Dazai didn't even have a chance to fight it, the world tumbling away from him in seconds. The last thing he felt was a hand over his own, squeezing gently. Even that could have been just a dream.

* * *

"Chuuya..?"

Chuuya's head snapped up as he heard his name, a soft whisper from the bed. He smiled at Dazai, leaning over to run a hand through his hair, heart warming as he received a half awake smile in response.

"Hey sleepy. How are you feeling?"

Dazai's eyebrows scrunched at that as he tried to think, his nose wrinkling in concentration. Chuuya was sat on the edge of the bed, had been since he'd brought Dazai home. It had been four hours since then.

"Mm.. tired. Everything's heavy. And fuzzy. Am I sick?"

Chuuya nodded, taking one of Dazai's hands in his own and holding it, just letting himself appreciate the warmth. "Yeah love, you're sick. It's nothing major. You'll be back to normal in a couple of days, you just need to rest a bit, okay?"

Dazai frowned at that but nodded, before yawning widely, reaching up with his free hand to rub at his eyes. Then he stared down at where Chuuya's hand held his own, and Chuuya could see the confusion on his face as Dazai noticed the ring as though seeing it for the first time. The charm was working, then.

"Chuuya, did we get married when I wasn't looking?"

Chuuya laughed at that, because Dazai was spouting his usual adorable nonsense, and the familiarity of it made Chuuya feel better. Even though it had been Dazai's decision to get the charm, it still felt so _wrong _lying to him like this. "Hah - sure we did. It's a protection charm, okay? As long as you wear it, you'll be safe. So best to keep it on, yeah?"

Dazai was staring down at the ring with a goofy smile on his face. That was good. Chuuya felt bad about the lie, but Dazai was smart. If he just had a random ring on his finger that he had no recollection of, he was likely to take it off, one day. That'd be.. unpleasant, for everyone involved.

"Hey, I've got to pop out for a bit. Just a quick errand, will you be good and rest for me?"

Dazai nodded after a moment, the movement slow and heavy. "Where's Chuuya going?" The sleepy mumble was accompanied by a soft yawn. Dazai was going to fall asleep any second - Chuuya wondered if he'd ever be able to get Dazai quite so relaxed and loose again. It was precious to watch.

"Nowhere important. I'll be back before you know it.. I love you."

Dazai's face seemed to light up at that, as he reached his arms up to pull Chuuya into a hug, smile wide. "I love you too, Chuuya. Can't believe we're married. That's great. Goodnight."

As Dazai rambled his head lolled forwards against Chuuya's shoulder in his exhaustion, and Chuuya gently lay him back down against the pillows, adjusting the duvet so Dazai was tucked in securely. Dazai was already back to sleep, breaths coming slow and steady. Chuuya took a few more moments to stare at Dazai, at the peaceful face he'd memorised weeks ago, before he teleported out of the room.

Things had dragged on for long enough. It was time to end this.

* * *

Mmf big things are happening my dudes. Big things.

Anyway I wrote most of this chapter on the way to visit a uni, and then didn't get the chance to write again for almost two months. Don't we love college? Also uh,, sorry the promised smut scene kinda cut off before the fucc? I just.. I'm not good at writing sappy sex and all my skills to do that were used up the first time. Oops.

There will be a PWP oneshot in the future though. We will be seeing Chuuya's promised sex room. It's happening.

This was essentially the last slower paced chapter before shit properly hits the fan so.. yeah. I'm not ready. Not at all. But here we are anyway. You guys have no clue what's coming oh my god

Also ! For everyone that's commented before relating this fic in one way or another to Howls Moving Castle.. fun fact ! chances are I wouldn't have gotten the idea for this fic if I'd never watched Howl's Moving Castle. It's a big influence for me. Also for anyone that doesn't know the film is based off a book which is ! Really good ! So if you've watched the film and liked it I really really recommend reading the book bc ahhh so good. Howl was my 12 y/o crush and it is absolutely time for me to rewatch the movie.


	16. 16 : Pinnacle

Sixteen : Pinnacle

* * *

Trigger Warnings for this chapter : Rape threat. Brief mention of previous underage / pedophilic rape. All non graphic.

* * *

"Why did you send Dazai to me, huh? What sick fucking _game _of yours are you playing now, Mori?"

There was no point beating around the bush. Outwardly Chuuya seemed calm but his voice was a snarl, angry and hateful as he stared at the man who had caused so much pain for Dazai. Chuuya had teleported straight to the heart of Mori's hideout - his office, the secret one, oval shaped and buzzing with magic. And there the Warlock was sat, surrounded by stacks and shelves full of documents and books. Some of these books… a good few of them would be enough alone to get Mori incarcerated, by governments both magical and earthly.

There was a barrier stopping him from obliterating Mori. It was stupid - he should have prepared for it, had a spell at hand, but this was a barrier of Mori's own creation, filled to the brim with the kinds of wards that took years of study and perfection to make. They were artistry and Chuuya didn't care, his own magic working and weaving furiously to tear them down, shatter them irreparably so he could rip Mori's twisted smile right off of his face.

He knew Mori could feel it, from the slight grimace pulling at the corner of the man's lips. Mori's magic pushed against his own and it was stronger than Chuuya last remembered it.

It didn't matter. The barrier was slowly falling. Chuuya was winning this encounter, but he was tense, knowing one slip would be enough to put him on the back foot.

The magical community did not look kindly on people like Mori. They would try to arrest Chuuya too, if they knew what he'd done, that he was harbouring a deity - however minor. Power scared these people, especially when it was a power they couldn't obtain for themselves. Mori had used those powers in the worst possible way; turned himself into a monster doing it.

Mori grinned from across the room as Chuuya slipped up, magic weaving one way through the wards and then rapidly doubling back as he realised he'd approached them in the wrong order. These wards were finicky, not entirely too difficult to smash down at first glance, but designed to be misleading. Chuuya clenched his jaw, grit his teeth and tried again.

"It's lovely to see you too, Nakahara. You reek of love and _filth_, boy. Wards like this should be child's play for someone of your caliber. How you've fallen since allowing a human into your life. It's a pity."

Chuuya snarled at the insult, teeth bared and magical energy prickling in aggressive spikes as Arahabaki growled out it's rage, a low rumbling reverberating through the very foundations of the room. Books trembling on their shelves. Chuuya wanted so badly to reach out and crush Mori's neck, put a black hole in his head, but he couldn't.

This barrier between them would have taken ten days at the very least to prepare. And as Chuuya struggled to rip away the wards he realised that not only were they finely crafted, they were designed to specifically combat himself, his style of magic. Flooding them with overwhelming amounts of energy wasn't working. They needed a fine touch, precision.

Chuuya took a slow deep inhalation through his nose, refocusing himself, narrowing the magic he had been working away at the wards with down to a needle fine point. One way or another, Mori had known he was coming.

Mori laughed again, cold and insane, arms resting on his desk, chin in one hand. His eyes were glinting with cruel amusement, lips curled in a lazy smile. Chuuya didn't like how _safe_ Mori seemed to be feeling, so he called to his gravity, allowing it to warp the room around him. Bookshelves groaned their protest and teetered dangerously, books falling to the floor. His influence didn't affect any space beyond the barrier, but Mori's smile faltered and his posture straightened a little, alert with his caution.

The threat had been clear; Chuuya would bring Mori's extensive underground lair down on both of their heads, if that's what it took. He'd like to see Mori's barrier stop _that_.

"Okay, then, if that's how we're going to play… Dazai is the living embodiment of my achievements. You left me, sought to stunt my experiments, but did that stop me? No. You were simply a delay, a slight hiccup in the road and not much else. I am powerful, with or without your aid."

Chuuya grit his teeth as he felt Mori's magic pushing against his own, pushing _hard_. Mori was building the barrier back up almost faster than chuuya could tear it down. To any untrained observer they would seem like two men standing in a room, but the strain of such intense magical combat almost had Chuuya trembling. They were warring, not with spells or tricks, but pure energies clashing against each other, pushing and pushing and _pushing_

"Fuck you, bastard. Dazai is-"

"There's another reason." Chuuya fell silent as Mori held up a palm, and dammit he wasn't going to make a habit of listening to the Warlock's orders but he _needed_ to know. Needed to know what exactly Mori had done to Dazai and why, so he could help him heal. Help him truly discover himself, and then move past what was done to him.

"You're rather tricky to track, you see, teleporting every which way as you do. It's an annoyance. But if Dazai goes missing after I send him to what I'm not _quite_ sure is your home address, well.."

The pain is sudden and intense and Chuuya feels his whole body jerk with it, breath leaving him in a rush. He coughs up blood, the damage running deep, pain spreading like lightning flitting through his nerves.

"Knock knock, Chuuya. I thought it was about time for a house call. What a _shame_ you aren't home."

His house was under attack, and for him to take such a hit from it the destruction must have been massive and _fast_. Dazai was still at home. Dazai was still at home, _sleeping_. Chuuya felt his vision turning white, pain panic blinding him as he teleported away, Mori's laughter ringing in his ears. His house's agony reverbertarted in his chest like a sword through the ribs, and Chuuya couldn't hold back his scream.

* * *

Dazai groaned as he woke, not wanting to leave the comfort of sleep that still lingered at the corners of his mind, trying to drag him back to that peaceful place. Sleep felt _good_, so good that sometimes Dazai struggled to wake up at all. Some days he would sleep and sleep and sleep and Chuuya would just let him, never waking him up, even if Dazai had slept as long as ten hours. After months of never being disturbed by would-be assassins, surprise missions nor emergencies, Dazai's body had slowly started to realise that sleeping was an act he could take joy in. He didn't have to be on edge, ready to be woken at any moment. It just.. wasn't necessary anymore. Not here, not in Chuuya's home.

And so today Dazai woke curled up on a sofa - it wasn't one he recognised, but that didn't worry him, not in the way it would have months ago. Chuuya must have moved him here (Dazai attested the fact that Chuuya could move him from room to room without waking him entirely to magic) and Dazai didn't mind at all, because this was one incredibly comfortable sofa.

He yawned, stretching out a little, listening to the sounds of a shower running from behind a door across the room. It was a cozy room, the sofa in the centre of it all. The wall to his left was entirely bookshelf and there was a fireplace off to the side. The flames burnt low, bathing him in their gentle warmth, and he was grateful for it. Dazai wondered where abouts in the house he was. This wasn't a room he'd been in before. Probably tucked away in one of the many areas of the house he hadn't explored, yet. It didn't bother him - if he needed, he could step out the door and the house would take him somewhere familiar.

Kouyou, Chuuya had once called the house, and then immediately insisted that it didn't have a name. Chuuya was a strange man, sometimes.

Dazai smiled at the thought as the sound of running water stopped, the shower turning off. Some rummaging, the sound of a cupboard door opening and closing, and then a light switch being flicked.

The door opened and there Chuuya stood, hair still wet from his shower, a fluffy blue towel wrapped around his waist. Water rolled down his cheeks, glinting in the firelight and making Chuuya look even more stunning. It still took Dazai's breath away, just how beautiful Chuuya was. Like some kind of God made human.

"Hey, Dazai." Chuuya's voice was like velvet and Dazai still wondered sometimes how someone so beautiful had ever chosen someone like him, with all his scars and issues and brokenness. Dazai had been getting a lot better at emotions recently, but sometimes the light would frame Chuuya's face just right or he'd do something in a certain way that would make Dazai feel emotions that were simply.. unnameable. In moments like those Dazai felt as though his heart was too big for his chest, as though it could tear its way out and leave him bleeding out on the ground, enraptured by Chuuya, by how wonderful Chuuya was.

Then Chuuya pulled out a gun, and Dazai felt his heart flutter for very different reasons. "Sorry, but I think it's time for you to go."

Chuuya was smiling as he said it, and Dazai felt his mind lag, trying to figure out what on earth Chuuya was talking about. "Chuuya.. what do you mean, exactly?"

Chuuya grinned then, a flash of teeth, but his eyes were still so sweet. So warm, always so warm, like there was a fire burning deep inside him that all the rain and wind in the world could never hope to extinguish. "I could never really like an itty bitty human like you for long, silly Dazai. Sorry, I thought you'd realised. You're starting to get a little boring, you know?"

A moment of silence then, but the words from Chuuya's mouth had been too telling, too obvious. Dazai's lips curled into a smile, eyes shining with amusement and anger as he stared at the imposter.

"Mori. You're not a very convincing actor. Try harder, next time."

The smile painted across Chuuya's lips twisted until it was very clearly Mori's smile. Cruel and smug, irritated that his plan hadn't worked but knowing it didn't matter, because there were always other ways. Mori never had just _one _plan.

"Ah, a shame. I really thought you'd fall for that one. Breaking you with Nakahara's face would be _such_ a delight." All the sweetness was gone from Chuuya's - Mori's - eyes, now. It was still Chuuya's enchanting blue-grey, but they held the familiar cruel amusement Dazai was used to from Mori.

It was with years of necessary practice that Dazai kept himself carefully relaxed as Mori approached the sofa in too-fast strides, climbing on top of Dazai, straddling his waist with a body far heavier than Chuuyas - this weighed more than any human. Dazai wanted to scream, wanted to shout and thrash and throw Mori off, but years of experience living with the man told him that that wouldn't help. Many of the things Mori did he did to get a reaction.

Maybe.. perhaps that was why Dazai had cultivated his masks of blankness in the first place. An emotionless indifference was the best defence against someone like Mori. Perhaps that had been why, and he'd just been a little too young to realise it.

Oda had probably realised. Dazai's breath shuddered on an inhale, and Mori grinned like Christmas had come early.

It was very easy to pretend a horrible man wasn't so horrible when you were sure you were going to be trapped under their thumb for the rest of your life. When you start to realise that you're just as horrible, by association if anything.

And so it was all Dazai could do to breathe through his nose and try not to throw up when Mori shoved his hand into Dazai's pants and _squeezed_, the grip invasive and disgusting. "Say, you never did manage to get it up when we had our fun before. Not once. You were still too young at first I suppose, but when you got older you still… Would you get hard, if I fucked you with the body of your _beloved_ Nakahara? Mm?"

"No, I don't think so." Dazai kept his voice light, forcefully neutral, but he had a horrible sickening suspicion that the answer was really _yes_. If Mori raped him now, like this.. Dazai wasn't sure his composure, his precious masks, would survive it. It would be disastrous. "Seeing as I was the one fucking Chuuya, I really doubt it would have the same effect."

It was all disgustingly civil, as the more disturbing conversations with Mori always were. Dazai felt sick, a churning nausea bubbling in his stomach, and he hoped that the lie had rolled as convincingly off of his tongue as he thought it had. It was a weak lie, but he could tell from the slight widening of Mori's eyes that the man had bought it. Mori stared hard at him for a moment _with the wrong face_ before his mouth _Chuuya's mouth_ curved up into a smile. It didn't look like Chuuya's smile at all, anymore.

"Well, no matter. Lets try something else."

Then blinding white light exploded all around him, and Dazai only realised after he closed his eyes that it was coming from inside his head. He bit through his tongue to stop himself screaming, blood exploding in his mouth, a vivid sickening warmth, and the last thing he heard before he passed out was Mori's laughter, and he knew it was Mori's because of just how _vile_ it sounded.

* * *

_An undisclosed amount of time later_

* * *

Yosano Akiko tensed as there was a knock on her door. She couldn't remember a time where that noise didn't send a little jolt of panic through her. For centuries she'd lived in this little house in the woods, tucked away in a lovely pine forest in England.

It didn't matter. Not a single place on this Earth was _truly_ safe. Not when the people you fear know magic.

Yosano rose slowly from her seat, not making a sound as she walked toward the front door, breath tight in her chest. Perhaps it was a lost traveller, looking for some help. That would be the most favourable outcome - that was how she fed, after all. Lost hikers, mostly. Once or twice there had been lost children. Yosano never did eat the children. It just felt.. wrong. Like the last shred of her humanity would leave her the moment she did.

The other less favourable options.. A Mage looking for recognition, out to kill the wicked Enchantress. Those who fed off of the souls of the living were frowned upon. It was often that her kind were killed, out of spite and fear, and Yosano couldn't say she blamed those who did it. She had looked upon herself with the same disgust, once, before finally deciding that this was her lot in life and she would unapologetically make the most of it.

She still cried after every kill.

The final option… Mori. Yosano didn't entertain the thought of that, as she would rather be dead.

Yosano was surprised when she opened the door to see Chuuya. His eyes were hazy and ringed with dark circles, bloodshot, and he was so very _pale_, skin clammy. There were smudges of blood around his mouth, red stains down the front of his shirt. Yosano stared in shock as Chuuya swayed in her doorway, and she was sure for a moment that he was drunk before realising that no, he was delirious from _pain_.

"Chuuya.." She trailed off, not knowing what to say. Turned out she needn't have worried, because Chuuya began talking a moment later, eyes unfocused and voice raspy like he'd spent hours screaming at the top of his lungs.

Maybe he had.

"Dazai's gone. He's taken, and Mori, and - and she's _dead_, Yosano, dead for.. properly this time. They blew her up. And Dazai's _gone_, and - "

Yosano took her friend by his shoulders and steered him inside, glad when Chuuya didn't protest, didn't fight her. Everything he was saying was very concerning, of course it was, but Yosano could tell that something was also very very wrong with her friend. He needed medical attention.

That suspicion was confirmed as Chuuya turned his head and threw up a considerable amount of blood into her plant pot. Yosano cursed as his body slumped, catching him and carrying him into her kitchen, laying him out across the long table.

She steeled herself, knowing that if she didn't act now, her closest friend was going to die. It had been over five centuries since she'd studied healing magic in the City of the Mother, but she'd been a _brilliant fucking healer,_ before everything had gone to shit.

There was no time to doubt her abilities, no time to second guess. Yosano took a deep breath, and plunged her hand into Chuuya's chest.

* * *

Chuuya did not sleep peacefully.

He did not dream, either. Chuuya didn't dream as a matter of principle. At some point in every Mage's education you become so in control of your unconscious mind that dreams are something _chosen_, an experience entirely under the dreamer's will.

So Chuuya did not dream. But he did sleep fitfully, and when he woke, it was with the loudest scream his ravaged throat could manage.

Movement, something jerking in his peripheral vision, and with a squint of his eyes Chuuya had a hundred sharpened daggers floating around him, all ready to plunge themselves into the threat. It was an old spell. One he hadn't used in years, but it came as easily as breathing.

Yosano's eyes were wide as she stared at the daggers. She's breathing heavily - no, that was him. Chuuya's breathing was loud, strained, and he realised with every breath that there was a pain in his chest. He looked down, daggers clattering to the floor around him, the spell forgotten in his distraction. There were bandages, thick and sterile and wrapped all around his chest. His eyes snapped back up to Yosano, furious.

"What did you _do_?" He demanded, and she only shook her head, staring in disapproval at the daggers littering her floor.

"That's not a nice way to talk to someone who saved your life. That's me, by the way."

Chuuya glared, and Arahabaki was more active than he'd been in centuries, thrashing and growling inside of him, a pressure in his head that Chuuya couldn't escape. "_Saved_ me? I don't have the time for this Yosano, I need to _go_, I need to save Dazai, I -" Chuuya paused as horrible realisation hit him, the panic sudden and enough to steal his breath away "I.. how long have I been here?"

Yosano stared at him for a long moment, in a calculating way that told Chuuya he wasn't going to like her answer. Then she sighed and stood up from her chair, took a step towards the window, stared out at the green of the pine forest that surrounded them for miles.

"Eleven days."

Chuuya didn't realise he was gripping the table until it splintered under his grasp, massive spikes of wood gouging into his hands. He didn't care. Couldn't feel or think _anything_ over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, and Arahabaki screaming in rage. "**You **_**fool**_ **! This is your fault, your weakness! Pathetic without me, and look what it's cost us!"**

Chuuya didn't respond because fuck, it was _true_. Eleven days.. Chuuya knew first hand how badly Mori could mess someone up in minutes, hours. A day was enough. A day was enough for him to break someone entirely.

_Eleven days._

Chuuya threw up before he could stop it. The lack of control over his own body was alarming and Yosano must have thought so too because she was at his side in an instant, her wariness forgotten as she fussed over him, eased him into an old, worn armchair and pressed a hand flat to his chest.

"I had to perform emergency surgery." She started explaining, and that was worrying enough, because Chuuya knew full well Yosano hadn't performed any healing magic since training in it in the City of the Mother. It took too much out of her, burned through the same amount of magical energy she got from eating the souls of six different humans. Minimum.

He must have been almost dead.

"Your heart was failing." She confirmed, stepping back. "I got it working again, but I had to go straight through your chest and ribs to do it. You're.. what happened to you, Chuuya? To Dazai?"

The mention of Dazai had Chuuya jumping to his feet again, and he stalked towards Yosano's front door with a purpose sharp and clear in his mind. "I need to go. I don't have time to explain things to you, I need to rescue him, Mori took him and I-"

Then Yosano was standing in front of him, blocking his exit. Arahabaki's growl was _loud_, low and feral and reverberating off the walls of the hallway. Yosano didn't flinch or look perturbed at all, only shook her head.

"No, Chuuya. You can't do this one alone - or maybe you can, maybe you can get the jump on Mori alone, but you know what? If Dazai isn't dead already, he probably will be by the time you find him."

Chuuya glared, and Yosano glared right back, her eyes steely and cold while Chuuya's burned with his anger. They stayed like that for several moments before Chuuya's legs buckled beneath him. He let out a shout as he fell, all the energy and adrenaline leaving him in a rush. He couldn't get back to his feet again, leaned his head against Yosano's legs instead, trying not to cry. It was difficult.

"I need to get him back Akiko. I love him. I love him so much."

A sigh from above him, and a gentle hand in his hair, petting softly. "I know. I'll help you. I have some.. friends, they can give us a good start, might even know where he is. But you're going to have to trust me, okay?"

Chuuya nodded, staring down at the floor. "Yeah. Who are these people?"

Hands on his shoulders, pulling him up, and his body didn't sag again. His limbs functioned, holding him upright - just barely, but it was enough. "I'll tell you once you eat something, okay? It's been eleven days. You're not leaving this house until you cook the both of us dinner and tell me what's going on."

Chuuya wanted so badly to argue but Arahabaki had finally gone quiet, and he was so _tired_. So instead he nodded. He didn't look up, but could hear the smile on Yosano's face as she murmured words of thanks and led him towards the kitchen.

* * *

Chuuya's entire body ached, and it felt a little odd to be sat eating at Yosano's table without a good glass of wine in hand, but drinking was so far away in his mind right now. Getting drunk wasn't going to get Dazai back, and so it was irrelevant.

Chuuya shoved another loaded forkful of carbonara in his mouth, the familiar taste a comfort. It was a simple dish - usually he liked to make or source handmade fresh pasta for it, but Yosano's shop bought stock made do for tonight. He was still so tired, the kind of exhaustion that set deep in his bones and clung, persistent. He hadn't been aware of doing it, but a little of his soul had certainly gone into healing himself.

He hadn't anticipated the damage Kouyou's destruction had done to him. He supposed he should have expected it. The very structure and basis of the living house had become a part of him, just as he was a part of it. They were linked on a level deeper than magic, and that.. that had been his downfall.

"I went after Mori." Yosano didn't speak, only watched him, but he could feel her silent judgement. "Figured he was going to come after us sooner or later, so I would strike first. Turns out that asshole had planned for it all along. He was _waiting_ for me to attack him."

Yosano still didn't say anything and Chuuya scrubbed a hand over his face, setting his fork down, lost of whatever meagre appetite he'd been able to summon before. "What if I hadn't gone? What if I'd just.. stayed away? Maybe he never would have attacked."

Yosano shrugged, tipping back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. "You'll never know. It's always mind games with him; maybe he would have waited and waited forever, or maybe he would have grown bored and come after you."

Chuuya stared at his plate of food, lips twisting into a grimace. The thought of eating it suddenly disgusted him - his mouth was dry, the pasta would be heavy and bland on his tongue, the sauce thick and sickeningly rich. He shook his head, pushing the plate away from him, feeling his stomach churn and his ribs throb in pain.

"Mori sent Dazai to my house in the first place to find out where I lived. And to wave his successful experiment in my face. Apparently Dazai not coming back was confirmation. So when I showed up, he sent a group to bomb my house. They had literal _bombs_, Yosano."

Yosano frowned at that "Mages?" She asked, and Chuuya shook his head.

"Nah. Just regular ability users. I.. didn't realise abilities like that existed. There were so many bombs, and a guy that could blow away chunks of the house like it was nothing, and..." He shuddered at the memories, felt sick, took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. Felt his ribs twinge in protest.

"Kouyou was fighting. Branches whipping about everywhere, she was massive, like.. like some kind of monster. You remember Harry Potter?" And Yosano smiled then, because yes, they'd watched the Harry Potter films together many years ago and had taken great joy in poking fun at them "It was like that angry tree but way bigger. I think Arahabaki's energy must have had some kind of influence. I don't…"

The salty sting of tears running down his face was a shock. He hadn't even felt them burning in his eyes and he hurried to wipe them away with a napkin, but they wouldn't stop coming. He looked up at Yosano, and she had the saddest look on her face. Chuuya realised what this was about, and it was a weight in his heart. "She's completely gone now, isn't she? She was already dead, but.. it felt like she was still there, sometimes, and now.."

Chuuya wasn't sure when he'd become such a crier, but he was so very glad for the warm arms that wrapped around him, Yosano just.. just holding him. It made a world of difference to have someone close.

He sniffled, voice thick when he spoke again "As soon as I realised Dazai wasn't inside I teleported back to Mori's. He was gone, obviously, and there were.. they were waiting, with guns, and I uh, I got shot a few times."

That bit was embarrassing, because they both knew Chuuya was better than that. But the pain of his house being ripped away from him had been so blindingly intense that he hadn't even realised he'd been shot until he'd felt the wetness of the blood.

"I tried to teleport here but I ended up in - I think it was Ireland? And then I blacked out for a bit, and I think I might have ended up in Honk Kong, or.. that might have been London, actually. But I got here. Eventually."

Yosano pulled back, held him at arms length, and her eyes were intense. Not with anger - Chuuya knew what anger looked like on Yosano and this wasn't it - but with deep concern. "Chuuya. You know very well what happens to Mages who try and teleport in a state like that. You could have - you should have died, Chuuya. You should be dead."

The words resonated with a memory, half blurred and addled with pain, and Chuuya frowned as he realised why he'd survived so many botched, barely conscious attempts at teleportation. "I.. yeah. It was just as bad as it was supposed to be. Arahabaki.. held me together. Put me back together, when that wasn't enough."

"Jesus." Yosano rubbed at her eyes, and Chuuya nodded in agreement at the sentiment, angry with himself. What the fuck had he been thinking? He couldn't save Dazai as two halves of a corpse in some random fucking city on the other side of the world.

"Chuuya" Yosano stood, offering a weak smile to her friend. Yosano was the one person he could trust to help him in this. "You know how Mori is. He'll be having his fun, certain he's got all the time in the world to drag it out. Come on. Let's go save Dazai."

Chuuya didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Dark. Flashes of light. Dark again. A sweetness that's heavy. Makes his tongue too big for his mouth, heavy and slow. His eyes fuzz. His mind spins and twists and the world falls away from him, to some sideways space that he can't reach.

Sometimes there is pain. Pain is like a surprise, blooming and sharp across his skin but dull at the same time. Distant, never grounding, never enough to pull him back into himself. He knows he's far away. Knows that should worry him, but the far away space is safe, and there's nothing scary. There's the pain, and the cold voice, and the emptiness so cold that sometimes it's all he can feel. All he is. But it's never scary.

Other times there's the sweetness, floaty and heavy and like it's smothering him, but in the best way. He can't think, so he doesn't. There is no reason to think. He just has to be still, very still, and be smothered by the sweet heavy and that's it. That's all he has to do, and it's simple, and it's nice. A comfort. The sweet heavy is all around him, inside him, and it's such a lovely change to loneliness. He can't feel lonely because it's in his insides, filling him up and weighing him down and making it so he doesn't have to feel lonely or sharp or cold anymore.

Then that all changes, because he can't just have the heavy warm sweet floaty. That would be too good. Only good people deserve good things. He is not a good person. That is what the voice said, and the voice is his whole world, so he believes it.

Then there is a sharp cold sharp pain in his side - _**needle!**_ His brain shrieks, and it is his first coherent thought. And then there is liquid fire freezing in his veins, replacing the warm heavy with pain and feeling and _memories_.

Dazai Osamu opens his mouth and screams.

* * *

Chuuya took one look at the building and felt his heart sink upon realising exactly where he was being led to. "Seriously, Yosano? You're joking. Please tell me your plan isn't.. _them_."

He could only watch in horror as Yosano only rolled her eyes, not even giving him a proper explanation. Instead she strode straight through the front door and started up the staircase, leaving Chuuya to trail behind her in disbelief.

He'd heard of the Armed Detective Agency. They did good work, sure, admirable work even, but at the end of the day they were simple ability users. The strength of said abilities would be like a drop in an ocean compared to Mori's magic.

He voiced as much to Yosano and she stopped walking, turning to stare down at him from a few steps above, her lips a frown of disapproval. "Chuuya. I don't need to remind you that one of your greatest magical achievements got obliterated by ability users not even a fortnight ago, do I?"

Chuuya felt the colour drain from his face at that, a tightness gripping in his chest at the thought of his home, of Kouyou. Humbled, he shook his head no and Yosano began climbing the stairs again, satisfied. Chuuya considered walking back down the stairs and resuming his mission to find Dazai alone, but no. He would meet with these people at least once, see if they could help. Take them seriously. He owed Yosano that much, at the very least.

"These are good people, Chuuya. They.. I've worked with them before, they'll help you get Dazai back. I'm sure of it. Abilities aren't that powerful compared to the sum of a Mage's magic, but when used tactically and in the right circumstance, they can be game changing." Chuuya sighed and reluctantly nodded, and then they were at a door, and Yosano opened it without another word.

The office was small, small enough that everyone was staring. Five pairs of eyes all on him, and Chuuya was suddenly very aware of how battered he must look. His clothing had suffered when he'd been shot. There were blood stains up the front of his shirt, contrasting against the white cotton. Chuuya shifted in his cloak, uncomfortable.

How ridiculous.

Yosano clearly hadn't been lying when she said she knew these people, as a brown haired squinty eyed young man practically leapt at her, clearly entirely unphased by the tension in the room. Or perhaps just unaware of it. "Yosano! You brought sweets?"

Yosano pulled a bag of packaged candy out the air, placing it in the man's hand, who seemed ecstatic at the sight. Didn't seem to question the magic, and Chuuya supposed that was.. expected, considering where they were.

He cleared his throat, and all eyes were back to him again, and the air seemed a little thicker for it. "Ah.. Yosano said you'd be able to help us." He said, which really wasn't explaining much, but.. it had been centuries since Chuuya had asked anyone for _help_ in anything. He didn't remember how.

Yosano took over, brushing past him to stand in the centre of the room, directing all the attention to herself. Chuuya felt himself relax a little at that, shoulders dropping a little. He was so tired.

"I know it's rude of me to pop up after all this time and ask for help, but it's really quite dire. Kunikida, could you get Yukichi in for me? He'll want to hear about this and I don't feel like repeating the details."

"Of course, just one moment." The blond man with the plait stepped out of the room and Chuuya wondered just what history Yosano had with this organisation. He looked around the room, nobody speaking as they waited for the blond man - Kunikida - to return.

What an odd bunch. His eyes lingered on a girl, maybe fifteen or perhaps even younger, wearing a traditional Kimono. The sight made him uncomfortable - why was such a young child at a place like this? He hoped she wasn't working here, but he could sense a powerful ability emanating from her, so he knew that the hope was vain. Their eyes met for a moment, and she seemed.. afraid. Her blue eyes shone calculating, cautious, but sharpened with an edge of fear. It was only then that Chuuya saw her hand gripped a short sword by her side, her posture too tense for it to be anything but deliberate.

"Do I know you?" He asked, trying to keep his voice light, friendly. It was an effort. The girl stared for a moment longer before answering, and her response came flat, almost toneless.

"Yes." She said, and that was all, because a moment later Kunikida returned, followed by a silver haired man wearing a very nice looking black haiori. Chuuya wanted one. He'd have to ask the man where he got it, if there were any still available, after.. This. When it was all over.

The thought of fashion was dashed from his mind and Chuuya stumbled, letting out a shout of pained surprise as Arahabaki stared _screeching_ inside of him. He reached out, steadied himself on the edge of a desk. Out the corner of his eye he could see Yosano looking back at him with concern as Arahabaki's anger shook the room, keyboards rattling on their desks and books falling to the floor with heavy thumps.

"God Sealer." Chuuya spat, the only explanation he could manage alongside his struggle to suppress Arahabaki's rage. He could feel his hands trembling violently, entirely out of his control. The beast was furious, thrashing and shrieking and it was all Chuuya could do to keep him constrained, push him back towards the edges of his mind.

The pain was blinding, and Chuuya wanted to throw up, or pass out. He did neither, and eventually managed to push the beast down just a little. Enough that the floor stopped trembling.

A white haired boy was beside him after a few moments, pulling out a desk chair and placing a hand on Chuuya's shoulder to help ease him into it. He didn't have the heart to slap the kid's hand away and sat wearily, wiped out from the effort of forcing Arahabaki down. Gods, he just wanted to sleep.

"Sorry, sorry.." He ignored how his own voice shook, how the floor around him was warped, bent from the shifting of gravity. Probably irreparably. Instead Chuuya made eye contact with the silver haired man, the God Sealer who stood across the room. "The Arahabaki. He gets a bit.. emotional, sometimes. You've sealed a lot of deities, huh? He doesn't like you. Really wants you dead, actually."

The man nodded, not seeming at all alarmed by the information. "Understandable. Is that going to be an issue?"

Chuuya shook his head, pulling a cup of water out the air and taking a long drink before shaking his head again. "No. He's under control, I've just.. had a rough few days. But he's properly sealed, and he certainly won't be getting out any time soon."

The man's face was entirely unreadable. It was almost disconcerting, except Yosano trusted this man, so Chuuya was making an effort to trust him, too. "I see. Using your own body as a vessel of containment is.. well, it's unheard of. It is testament enough of your ability that you are simply alive." Chuuya nodded, because that was true, and the man addressed Yosano next, his face softening just a little as he looked at her "So, Yosano. I wasn't expecting to see you for a long time, yet. Kunikida says there's something you both need from us?"

Yosano sighed as she pulled out a wheely chair from under one of the desks, flopping down. "Yeah. Mori's gone and been a bastard again, nothing new there. He's kidnapped a dear friend. We _have_ to get him back. Time critical. Can you help, Fukuzawa?"

Chuuya forced himself to raise his head, because this was important, and staring at the floor wasn't going to help anything. "Moving directly against the Port Mafia is a big deal, especially for us. They're our bitter rivals and whatever. This guy's boyfriend must be super important to you, right Yosano?" It wasn't the silver haired man that spoke but the one with the sweets, and Chuuya narrowed his eyes.

"How do you know Dazai's my boyfriend? Yosano didn't say anything about that. What, is that your ability?"

The man's face seemed to brighten considerably at that and he laughed, shaking his head. "No, not an ability, just.. lets call it a hunch, it's what you'll understand."

Chuuya prickled at that because these people didn't seem to get that he was the most powerful sorcerer on Earth, and six centuries old at that. They didn't seem to care, either - kept on talking as though Sweets hadn't just insulted his intelligence.

"Yes, Ranpo. You know him very well in fact - Dazai Osamu."

A hush swept over the room then, and the good energy that had built up vanished in a second. Fukuzawa was the first to speak up, voice ever reasonable but words damning. "Dazai Osamu is a man responsible for many deaths. Over half of my agency would be dead as a direct result of his actions if it wasn't for the aid you provided us with, Yosano. I can't order my team to help the man that has aided in missions to wipe us out many times over."

Chuuya winced, despair a burning sinking kind of feeling in his chest. He'd known full well that Dazai had done terrible things, killed people, and that there were people out there who would never be able to forgive him for it. He wasn't expecting the consequences of that to appear now though, of all times.

"Please." he sounded as desperate as he felt, voice catching on the edge of tears "You have to understand, he was groomed by Mori, he never really had a choice, you have to - " Chuuya stopped short as Fukuzawa approached him, placing a firm but not unkind hand on his shoulder. Arahabaki hissed in protest but Chuuya didn't shake off the touch. Fukuzawa didn't smile, but in that moment his eyes were so very soft. Sympathetic, as though he could see everything Chuuya had lost.

Chuuya got the sudden feeling that Fukuzawa was older than him, and that was a feeling Chuuya hadn't experienced in centuries.

"However." The word had Chuuya's breath hitching in his throat, choking on the desperate shards of hope that spiked in his chest. "Dazai Osamu is also the same man that fed us tips and information that has saved this agency from annihilation countless times. Tips that allowed us to save people doomed to death, or worse. So. I cannot, in good conscience, _order_ anyone to save Dazai Osamu. But they are all capable of making that decision themselves."

Fukuzawa gave nothing away, but behind him the white haired boy and the too-young girl met eyes and nodded to each other, and Chuuya remembered where he'd seen the girl before.

The Mafia. He wanted so badly to ask, but he knew that that was not the kind of topic strangers should pry into.

It turned out he didn't need to, as the girl spoke up herself.

"You all wouldn't have been able to free me from the Mafia if it wasn't for the information Dazai-san gave you. I owe him my life just as much as I owe it to this Agency."

The white hair boy chimed in next, looking a little sheepish as all eyes in the room turned to him. "I don't really know that much about this Dazai guy, but if he's the one that helped us save Kyouka then I want to help save him, too."

Nods of agreement around the room, and Chuuya felt himself overwhelmed with the horrible, sudden urge to cry in relief. He forced the tears back, nodding his gratitude. "Thank you all. So much. I don't.. I have no idea what your abilities all are, but I know I can't rescue him alone."

Yosano spoke up again then, giving Chuuya a lighthearted shove to the shoulder, smile entirely too smug. "Say, don't you have an ability yourself? '_For the Tainted Sorrow_', wasn't it? How dramatic."

Chuuya glared. "You traitor, you promised not to tell anyone!"

Laughter, and all the tension and negative energy was gone from the room just like that. Chuuya smiled then, just a hint of a thing tugging at the corner of his lips, because there were people in this world that cared about Dazai Osamu. Even if Dazai thought he was alone, he wasn't. There was an entire _agency_ willing to risk their lives to save him.

Anxiety was still a weight in his chest, but things didn't feel quite so hopeless anymore.

* * *

A/N : I'm sorry my grand return is just dumping 7648 words of plot on y'all. Does the long chapter make up for the even longer wait ? I disappeared at a very bad time pacing wise for this fic lol. I politely recommend going back and re-reading the last few chapters to remind yourself what's going on.

So uhhhh…. I'm back ! I don't know if anyone's still here but dammit I'm going to finish this fic either way. I can't just walk away forever when we're at the peak of the entire plot ! Writing this chapter has successfully rekindled my love and enthusiasm for Dazai and Chuuya so that's a major plus.

I'm sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long. I would really appreciate it if those who have read this could leave a comment letting me know you're here, because community interaction is a big part of why I write fic and it would certainly give me a morale boost haha.

Thank you so much for reading 3 next chapter is coming real soon !

Also i hope everyone is well during this difficult time. Stay safe guys


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